He'll Ruin You, But I'll Pick Up The Pieces
by TheLittlestRaindrop
Summary: A visit to the Phantomhive manor changes your life forever. *Originally posted on AO3*
1. Catalyst

It's a beautiful day in London. The sun is shining, the birds are singing, the streets are bustling. It's just a shame the same can't be said of you.

You are married to a very well-to-do businessman named James Scottington. You have a large house with a beautiful garden, numerous servants, and two lovely little lapdogs named Anna and Henry. To the outside world, everything appears perfect. Just one problem; your husband is an uncaring bastard who has cheated on you so many times you can't even bring yourself to get angry anymore. The first time you found him in bed with another woman, it broke your heart. By the tenth time, you just didn't care anymore. You've long since lost any and all love you may have had for him.

'Maybe it would help if I gave him children.' You'd once thought. But alas, that has yet to happen, and as your husband refuses to share a bed with you, you doubt it'll ever happen. The possibility of a divorce has crossed your mind more than once too, but the shame of people knowing what your husband got up to was simply too much to bear thinking about.

As you think on your current situation, you hear a knock on your door; it's your maid Elizabeth come to prepare you for your trip. Oh yes, your trip. A day away at the Phantomhive estate. The Earl has invited your husband up to manor to discus bussiness. Naturally, as his 'loving' wife, you were expected to come along too. Oh joy.

Your maid proceeds to dress you in a simple, white cotton dress, adorned with embroidery around the hem. Within the hour you are in a carriage, sitting next to your husband. He's quite a portly man, with a ruddy face and an unkempt black moustache. What little hair he has left is sticking out either side of his bowler hat, and you can see sweat dripping down his neck. How you ever found this man attractive is beyond you, and as he turns to talk to you, you question yourself even more.

'Now remember, WIFE,' he says, overemphasising your title in an attempt to belittle you, 'I am here as an esteemed guest, and as my wife I expect you to behave in a certain way. You will be polite, accommodating, and agreeable. Do you understand? Speak now if there's something that isn't getting through to that tiny female brain of yours, because I will not have you embarrassing me like you did at the Midford household last year. Is that clear?!' Ah yes, 'The Midford Incident', also known as the time part of your steak flew off of your plate as you cut it, and landed on Lord Midford's lap. The man himself found it quite funny, but the bruises you'd had on your arm for a month showed just how James viewed the incident…

'I understand. I'll be the perfect wife, I promise. I will be 'Polite, accommodating, and agreeable', just like you said I should be.' You fake a smile.

'Well good, and don't you go forgetting it! Otherwise there will be hell to pay, you mark my words.' He grabs your arm forcefully until you give him an affirmation.

You do not speak to each other for the rest of the journey, but you can feel the tension in the air. You're relieved when the carriage finally arrives at the estate. As soon as you pull up, a tall man in a dark coat opens your door. He has the darkest hair you've ever seen, and eyes of a most magnificent red. Your heart races as you take a hand that he has extended towards you. When he speaks, your feel like butter on a hot kitchen counter; overheated, and ready to melt.

'Greeting, my lady. My name is Sebastian, head Butler to the Earl of Phantomhive. I take it your journey here was pleasant?' You begin to thank God himself because he has clearly sent an angel down to greet you. Or maybe you should thank Earl Phantomhive. Either is good.

'The road going through the estate was far too bumpy, my footman nearly vomited. You could at least see to it that your guests arrive in one piece!' Cries a voice from behind you. Trust James to make a fuss over nothing.

'My apologies, Sir. I had no idea the road was in such a state of disrepair. I shall begin preparations to fix it at once. In the meantime if you'd both like to follow me, I believe my Master is waiting for you in his study.' You think you'd follow this man anywhere, attractive as he is. Focusing on your surroundings becomes difficult, as just being in the presence of this man has bought a burning need into the ground of your mind; the need to fuck him. You internally curse yourself for using such vulgar language. What would this 'Sebastian' say if he could hear your thoughts?!

At that moment, his head turned slightly, looking you straight in the eye, before turning back as if nothing happened. Maybe you were just imagining it, but it seems like he smirked as he did it. 'Impossible' you think. 'I really am out of sorts, imagining things such as that.'

Sebastian leads you up a grand staircase and along a hall. As you make your way to the study, your husband stops to look in a doorway. Noticing this, you go to his side to see what he's staring at; a rather buxom red-headed maid emptying a fireplace. You feel physically sick as you see the way he's leering over her (despite the fact you'd been leering over Sebastian only moments ago). The sound of said Butler coughing caused both of you to leave the doorway and continue following, hopefully nearing your destination.

You all stop in front of a door the presumably leads to the study. Sebastian knocks briskly, and a muffled reply bids us entry.

The study is a remarkably spacious room, filled floor to ceiling with books from all over the country. The centrepiece of the room is an immense desk, make from what you're sure is wood of a very high quality. Situated behind the desk is someone you can only assume is the Lord of the Manor; the Earl of Phantomhive himself. Just one slight problem with that…

'Excuse me, young man, but I was rather hoping to speak to the head of the household. If you would kindly fetch your father, we grown ups have some business we need to discuss.' Oh but this did not go down at all well with the 'young man' in question.

'My father is dead, Sir. I am the head of this household; Ciel Phantomhive. The business you have come to discuss is my business, and I am not a child!' He spits out scathingly. Looks like you're not the one who should have been lectured on how to behave.

'Oh, my Lord Phantomhive, I really had no idea it was you. Forgive me, Sir, it's just that I had a difficult journey here, what with my wife's constant complaints about having to sit in on a business meeting. I'm feeling a little out of sorts, forgive me.' His Lordship considers your husband's worthless apology for a while. First he looks at you, then his Butler, before finally settling his eyes back on James.

'All is forgotten, Lord Scottington. I do understand how tiresome it can be listening to a woman for several hours. Sebastian, perhaps you can find something suitably interesting for our female guest to do while we talk business? Oh, and send Tanaka up with a pot of tea and some scones. At once.' The young Earl orders. 'For someone in such a place of power, he seems like a bit of a brat' you think.

'At once, Sir. Come, my lady, let us find more suitable amusements for you.' Sebastian motions for you the two of you to leave the room. As you leave, you see your husband settle in a chair across for his Lordship. You pray that the meeting goes smoothly.

Sebastian takes you to a room in the opposite wing of the house. Your heart races when you realise it's a guest bedroom.

'Now, if you could kindly wait here for a moment, I must relay my masters' orders to Tanaka. When I return, I hope you will be willing to indulge me in a game of chess. Back in a moment.' He leaves quietly.

'Chess?' You question out loud. 'The sexiest man I've ever seen in my life has lead me to a bedroom only to play chess! Life is a cruel joke.' You lament, throwing yourself onto the bed dramatically. Today was a cruel joke of a day.

A few moments later, Sebastian returns, brandishing a chessboard under arm and a cup of tea in the other. Offering you the tea, he takes a small table and chair from the corner of the room and places them in front of you. You drink your tea as Sebastian sets up, placing the chess board and pieces onto the table quickly. He places the chair on the side of the table opposite you, and takes the now-empty teacup from your slightly-trembling hands. Preparations now complete, he takes his seat.

'I presume you know how to play chess? A woman as well-bred and beautiful as you must do, surely.' He smirks at you. You can't decide if he's mocking you or challenging you. Feeling bold, you decide to use your feminine wiles to catch him off guard.

'Of course I know how to, Sir. The question is; are we doing this for fun, or is there another motive I'm not yet aware of. After all, it's not everyday a lady is taken into a bedroom to play a board game. Is chess the only thing on your mind?' It's your turn to smirk, fully anticipating him to stutter out an apology. His response shocks you.

'My, my, it would appear you are as intelligent as you are beautiful. I do in fact have an ulterior motive for getting you alone in here, so far away from you husband. However, if you wish to uncover it, we must first play out little game. So for now, my dear, it's your move; white always moves first after all.' His voice hypnotises you, and all you can think about is what that ulterior motive might be. Guess there is but one way to uncover it.

You move your first piece.

-t/s-

A mere five minutes into the game, and it is almost over. Both of you are down to a small group of pieces. You move your one remaining Bishop, planning to take his queen in a few moves' time. However, he sees your intent, and quickly moves he knight to dispose of your bishop.

'You see my dear, if I let you take my queen like that, then what kind of king would I be?' He says, oozing charm.

'The kind of king who fucks other women when she isn't around.' You reply before you can stop yourself. There's a pause, the air heavy with tension, before he speaks again.

'That kind of king deserves to have his queen taken from him. Stolen away right under his very nose.' You feel a hand under the table, caressing your thigh. Oh sweet lord let this be happening, please.

'But for someone to take a queen from a powerful king, one would need to be more than a man. One would need to be a God.' You begin rubbing your legs together, desperate for relief. You can feel your underwear getting ruined by your wetness. It really has been too long if all it takes is on touch and a few words to have your body begging to be taken by a stranger.

'Or the very devil himself.' Sebastian replies as he stands up, having apparently lost all interest in the game. 'You wished to know why I placed you in here, only to place chess?' He pushes the table away and you stand up, only for his body to trap yours between his and the bed. 'I needed to confirm what I thought I already knew. That you were a woman so bored by your husband's constant 'games' that you would jump at the opportunity to play one of your own. I mean, look at you. I've know you for less than an hour, yet you ache for me like you've known me your whole life. Shall I replace that ache with a much more pleasant one? I assure you, I'm one hell of a lover!' With that, he turns you over and flips you onto the bed. You can't believe that this is happening, that you're finally going to feel the pleasure that you've been denied for so long. A part of you feels bad for doing this, but then your husband's words from early spring to mind; 'polite, accommodating, and agreeable', and you realise that you're really just following his instructions.

Sebastian pushes you dress up over your legs and removes your underwear. You look over your shoulder to see him stuffing them into his jacket pocket and you feel your face burn with shame and lust. As you face forwards again, you hear a shuffling sound that you can only assume is him freeing himself from his trousers. Your suspicions are confirmed when you feel him pressing into you. He leans over so her can whisper something in your ear.

'It feels only right to give to a chance to back out, so if you wish to do so, say so now.' You shake your head in response. 'No? Alright then, you asked for it.' And just like that, he thrust up into you.

It was rather painful at first; a side effect of not having been fucked in ages. However, as you get used to his movement, the pleasure that washes over you is almost surreal. You feel like you're living in a dream; being pounded into by a near-perfect stranger, while your husband talked business with a child in the very same building. The whole room felt far too hot, and the feeling of your clit catching on the edge of the mattress was just too much. You climax violently, biting into the covers to try and stifle your scream. Sebastian fucked you through your orgasm before pulling out. Then nothing. You look at him, confused, while he stuffs himself back into his trousers.

'You didn't finish?' You ask, concerned. Was it really so awful he didn't want it to continue?

'I didn't need to, my dear. I received everything I needed from you.' He says with a wolfish grin, and you can't help thinking that there's a double meaning in his words. Alas, you are far too tired to care. You pull your dress down your legs, and hope to God you don't smell too much like sex.

The two of you spend some time talking and packing away the board, before Sebastian suggest seeing how the 'men' are getting along. Just as you reach the study, James is leaving in a hurry.

'Come, wife. Our business is concluded. But don't you think this is the last you'll hear from me, brat! I'll ruin you! RUIN YOU! And I'll take everyone close to you down too!' With that he grabs your arm, and drags you back downstairs. You're practically thrown into the carriage, as your husband is planning to get away from the manor as quickly as he can. Once you're a far enough away for his liking, he speaks again.

'The nerve of that brat! Thinks he can get the better of me like that?! No, Sir! His poxy little toy company will crumble under the weight of my empire! I can't wait for the day I get to summon him to my home to tell him what I think of him and his business model! Still, at least the road out wasn't as bumpy as it was.' He carries on ranting for quite some time, but you don't care to listen to him after that. You're too busy thinking about Sebastian, and seeing if you can think of what he meant by 'I received everything I needed from you'. You sigh, deciding that train of thought is stupid. There's no way he meant anything sinister by it.

A week later, you discover that you are very wrong indeed.


	2. Fallout

**A/N Hello there. Just a quick warning, this chapter contains rather dubious consent (in the form of prostitution). Hope you enjoy :)**

The day starts out like most others; you get up, allow yourself to be dressed, and eat breakfast with your husband in silence as he peruses the morning paper.

It has been a week since you both visited Lord Phantomhive at his manor, and your husband's mood hasn't improved since. His looks toward you had grown more icy, almost if he knew what you'd been up to on that fateful day; the day you'd had sex with Sebastian, butler to Lord Ciel Phantomhive.

You doubt that he knows, however; how could he? You were at opposite ends of a sprawling Manor House! More than likely, his apparent iciness towards you was caused by his recent line of ill-fortune.

Not 24 hours after your husband's little spat with the Phantomhive boy, shares in his business had dropped tenfold. A few days later, and his second-in-command Ralf Dennings was found dead at his county house, having apparently fallen down the stairs and impaled himself on all manner of cutlery. And finally, to top it all off, his chief investor pulled out of their agreement, citing 'better opportunities elsewhere.' Despite all of his threats towards Lord Phantomhive, it would appear it was your husband that was to be ruined.

Your musing were interrupted by your own butler entering the room with a small parcel and a note on a silver tray. Accepting them both with curiosity, James opened the note first, reading it out loud;

 _Dear Lord Scottington,_

 _I fear that your wife let these with me when you visited last week. I wouldn't imaging she has miss them overmuch, as I'm sure she has many other items just like it. I was tempted to keep it as a souvenir, just as the Vikings of yore took the heads of the people they conquered and displayed them as trophies, but alas, my master forbade me from doing so. A pity, indeed, but if I didn't listen to my master then what kind of Butler would I be?_

 _Speaking of the Young Master, he sends his best, and reminds you that he's still waiting on you to 'destroy' him as planned. He can be so cheeky at time._

 _Do send my personal regards to your wife, and remind her that my door is always open, should she desire a repeat of last week. It did rather seem as though she enjoyed it._

 _All the best,_

 _S.M._

Your husband looks at you curiously, his brow furrowed. 'S.M? I presume that's the butler. But what on earth is he talking about? Do you recall leaving anything at Phantomhive manor last week?' He shakes the box, in an attempt to gage what's inside.

'I don't recall. Couldn't have been anything too important.' You force a smile, mind desperately looking for answers. Think, think…

As he starts to open the package, you suddenly remember.

Your underwear.

Sebastian put them in his pocket just before you had sex.

Oh god.

You make to stop him, but you're too late; he's already holding them.

His face turns purple, and you begin to wonder if he's having some kind of heart problem. You watch, fearing for your safety, as he stands up, and turns to face your maid.

'You there, kindly escort this harlot back to her quarters. She is not to leave under any circumstances, do you hear me?' She nods, and he turns to the butler. 'You, write to both my in-laws and my solicitor. And make sure they bring their check books; divorces aren't cheap, you know.' Your heart stops; divorce? But surely not? If he wanted rid of you, he would have done it ages ago. Why now? But then it all made sense; he had nothing to gain from leaving you then. He benefitted from your family's money too much, and he knew he'd lose it all if he left you. But now? Now he had proof that you'd been unfaithful. Now he could play the victim.

Now he could arrange a severance agreement with your parents, and finally get everything he wanted.

You make no attempts to plea with him as you're escorted back upstairs; you know when you've been beaten.

-t/s-

It takes little over a month before you find yourself in serious trouble; poor, homeless, and hungry.

 _The divorce was settled quickly, with your (now ex) husband wanting to get shot of you as soon as possible. Your parents had paid him a hefty sum indeed to keep news of your indiscretion hidden; the official reason for your divorce being a 'catastrophic failure in relations', but no specifics were given._

 _Despite the fact that there was no stain on your reputation, your parents had still refused to take you home; sickened by your actions, they decided to legally disown you. You had no one._

 _Your things had either been destroyed or given away, leaving you with only the white cotton dress you wore that day; it was if James was taunting you. It was humiliation beyond compare._

 _You'd been driven into the centre of London, wherein you were practically tossed from the carriage, falling onto your knees. You tried to ignore the stares from passers-by as you rise to your feet, but seeing they way they looked at you made you feel sick. Just as you scuttled off into a nearby alley, you saw a blonde entering the carriage. 'Looks like he's picked one to remarry already' you thought bitterly, before setting off into the darkness._

Now here you are; sitting in filth and disease, once white dress brown with the grime from the streets. You haven't eaten in four days, and it's taking its tole on you. You're weary, sleep being difficult to find when you fear what will happen to you when you close your eyes. You haven't moved far from the alleyway where you'd been left; it has decent foot traffic, and most people are willing to toss a coin or two your way of you're lucky. You rarely are though; maybe people only gave to you initially because you stood out, a speck of white in an ocean of brown. But now you're just part of the scenery.

A familiar voice distracts your thoughts. 'My, my. What do we have here?' It couldn't be, could it? Fate couldn't be that unkind. You look up, and your worse fear is realised; standing before you is none other than Sebastian, the 'man' who took your desire for him and used it to ruin your whole life. This wasn't happening.

'You!' You growl. 'You ruined my life. Why? What could you have possibly gained?' You needed answers. You needed to know why someone would do something so cruel.

'Your life was already ruined, my dear, or you never would have given yourself over to me so willingly. And don't you pretend that you weren't; I gave you the opportunity to stop, but you merely shook your head and let me have my way with you. As to why I did what I did, the answer is simple; I was only doing as my Master ordered. You see, the Young Master wanted some way of destroying your former husband should things in the meeting not gone to plan, which they did not. We had plans already waiting, traps that we planned to spring at a moments notice. But we needed more. A way to wound more than just his business interests. That's when I saw you. Poor little wife, neglected, _alone._ It was all very well ruining the man's business, but to destroy his pride as well… oh you might think that his pride remains undamaged, but I assure you that it is. I took his most valuable possession from him. Right under his nose. His pride is undoubtedly damaged. Now I just have to wait until it breaks under the strain of potential ruination.' At that moment, your stomach makes a growling noise.

'Ah, poor dear, you must be starving. How about we make a deal?' You don't like the sound of that, but you're willing to hear him out. 'How does this sound; we skulk away into the alley, away from private view, and you let me have my way with you. After I'm finished, I'll give you 20 guineas. That'll be for than enough to buy you food. So what do you say?' This puts you in a dilemma; allow this man to have you again, and eat, or turn him away and starve? 20 guineas is a lot of money, but is it worth your pride?

You stand up, planning to push him away, but you only end up pulling you closer. It must be the hunger taking over, but you've decided; you lost your pride the night you cheated on your husband with a stranger. One quick fuck for food was hardly going to ruin you further.

Sebastian roughly pushes you against a wall. You feel the stone as it brushes against your back, and you're sure that you'll end up scratched to buggery when this is over. You don't care about that though; all you care about is eating tonight.

He gets straight down to business, yanking your underwear down to you ankles. You step out of one leg, leaving them hanging off the end of one leg; you wouldn't be able to spread them if they remained where they were. He pulls your left leg around his waist, lifting your skirt as he went. You suddenly feel two of his fingers force themselves into you, and have to bite your lip to keep from screaming. You were still in public after all.

You stay like this for a while, him prising you open for him. You're not quite as wet as before, pleasure taking a backseat to pragmatism. Here you weren't a woman who needed to feel wanted; you were a woman that needed to feel fed. Eventually deciding you were as ready as you would be, Sebastian unzips his trousers, and pulls them and his underwear down enough to allow his cock to spring free. You look away as he lines himself up, and have to fight the urge to stop him when he enters you.

He brings your other leg up and around his waist so you're wrapped around him, and starts to thrust into you.

His thrusts are powerful, and you feel totally helpless, trapped between this man and the hard wall. He tugs at you dress, allowing one of your breasts to pop out. He leans his head down to suckle on it, and you start to feel pleasure, despite your current situation.

Eventually his thrusts grown more erratic, and you figure he must be close; you're not, but that's not his problem this time. He climaxes suddenly, and you can feel his semen flooding your insides. It seems to last him forever, as if he's been denied release for centuries. When he finally pulls out, you can feel the proof of his orgasm sliding down your legs, adding to the shame and debauchery of the situation. You pull your underwear up as he fixes himself. When you're both done, he reaches into his pocket and hands you your 20 guineas.

'It's been a real pleasure, my dear. Perhaps I'll see you again sometime; even someone like me needs to use a whore once in a while.' And with that, he leaves, and you fall onto the floor.

You can't stop the tears flowing down your face. Part of you still feels as if you did the right thing, but the rest of you just feels ashamed. Ashamed that one man had turned you from neglected housewife to whore, from comfortable city dweller to filthy vagrant. Hiding the money you 'earned' in a secret pocket on the dress, you curl up into yourself and sob your way into dreamland…

-t/s-

When you awake several hours later, one thing is clear; you're not where you were when you went to sleep. You're not even still outside. Instead you're lying in a dark room, on what can only be described as a very uncomfortable table.

You sit up and try to take in more of you surroundings. You see candles, a desk, and _coffins?!_ Oh dear lord, you were in a funeral parlour! But how? How did you get here? Did someone see you sleeping on the street and assume you were dead?! Still in a daze, your next thought is to make sure you've not been robbed. But as you make to feel for your money, you realise something.

You're completely naked.

'That confirms it,' you think 'Someone actual thought I was dead, and now some creepy mortician is going to come in here and make me presentable. There goes what's left of my pride.'

For the second time today, you weigh up you options; bolt stark naked from here, or wait for the mortician to arrive. Before you get the chance to decide, a door in the far corner of the room opens.

'Don't mind me, me dear. Just goin' to make you look pretty for your send off later. Well I never, you're not one of me customers after all. Welcome back to the land of the living! I'm the Undertaker, and I'm going to find you some clothes!'


	3. A Stranger's Kindness

About ten minutes have passed since your awakening. This 'Undertaker' had made good on what he said, finding you a long black robe to wear. It was baggy on you, but at least it was warm.

He's taken you into a small parlour room, located next door to the room you'd risen in. He hands you a cup of tea in a flask, and you incline your head in thanks.

'So then, me dear, I do believe I owe you an apology. When I came across you on me way back from the shops, I was sure you were dead! I couldn't just leave ya there, given me profession an' all, so I decided to take you back to me shop. I figured you had no family, so I was just going to treat you like any other Jane Doe and give you a quiet little send off. I didn't expect to find you awake on me table, that's for sure! That was priceless!' He descends into a fit of giggles, and you're not sure what to make of him. Sure, he probably did you a favour by taking you off of the streets for a while, but how could anyone find this funny? For all he knew, you were dead, a corpse on a slab. Anyone else walking in on that could have had a heart attack! But there he was, reacting calmly at first, now giggling about it! Giggling! This man was a strange one for sure. You only hope he's not the dangerous kind of strange.

His laugher subsides. 'Oh, that reminds me.' He pulls something from his pocket and gives it to you; it's your 20 guineas! 'This was hidden in that dress of yours. I was goin' to keep it, given that you had no use for it. But now that you do, it's only right I give it back. It's a little too late for the dress though; it was so dirty, I couldn't just leave you in it. I threw it out with the rubbish.' He smiles, a touch of apology in it. You say nothing, just stare at the money in your hand, memories of how you got it flooding your mind. You'd sold yourself to the very devil, just to earn money for food. You'd fallen so far, you don't recognise yourself anymore. You start to cry.

'Hey now, don't cry. I can't bear to see pretty girls so sad. Tell you what, why don't I draw you a bath? You can wash up, and I'll make us some supper. Would you like that, me dear?' You nod, somewhat astonished by his kindness. Most men would have thrown you out by now. Perhaps he was after something in return? That sounds about right. The men in your life never did anything for you without gaining something in return. Why should this man be any different?

He disappears, presumably to start your bath, and you finish your tea in silence, contemplating your situation further. He reappears just as you finish your drink.

'Your bath is ready, sweetheart. I've made it nice and hot for you. I've even made some little soap bubbles in the water. There's a clean towel, flannel, and bar of soap by the side. I've also put aside some water in a bucket for rinsing. Take as long as you like. I'll have supper ready by the time you come out!' He gestures toward the bathroom, and once again you incline your head in thanks.

He isn't lying about the temperature; it's the hottest bath you've ever taken. It feels so good against you, the warmth seeping into your aching muscles. You recline in the tub for a while, letting yourself enjoy a moment of relaxation before your thoughts turn dark again. Your eyes scan the room, half expecting to see a peep hole in the wall or something. Yet you see nothing, just a small cabinet full of little glass bottles, a sink, and a toilet. 'Must be his only facilities. My old house had three baths and four toilets, none of which were in the same area.' You realise how snobbish your thoughts sound. You should just be grateful for this man's kindness, at least while it lasts.

Sighing, you grab the soap, and begin cleaning yourself. The grime that comes off of you makes the water turn brown, which makes your stomach churn. It hasn't been that colour since your childhood, when you'd come in covered in dirt after helping mother in the garden. But this was a different kind of dirt; this was filth from the street, and it was all you were worth now.

You take care to clean thoroughly between your legs, seeking to erase all evidence of this afternoon from your body. You wonder if he really will seek you out again as he stated earlier. Maybe if you do it enough times you'll be able to afford a place to live. Somewhere where you can whore yourself out properly. Who's to say he's the only man willing to fuck you? There must be plenty of men just waiting for a woman like you to give them a quick shag. After all, your pride is already in ruin. Why salvage it when you can make a good living out of it?

Carefully considering your options (or lack thereof) you wash your hair slowly, and rinse yourself off with a the water provided. A brisk rubdown with the towel leaves you feeling clean and dry, and you put on the robe from earlier. As you open the bathroom, the smell of stew hits your nostrils, and your stomach shouts out in hunger; that must be the supper Undertaker spoke of.

You follow the smell into a small kitchen-diner, where you seen Undertaker standing by a stove, apparently checking on supper.

'Ah, there you are me dear, I take it you had a pleasant bath? Take a seat, I'm just finishing off supper.' You sit as far away from the stove as you can, still a little weary of him. He seems to pick up on this.

'I'm not going to bite you, sweetheart. I've got a stew here that's probably a lot tastier!' He giggles again, and you can't help but smile a little this time.

'What's this? She smiles? Oh thank goodness, you really had me worried for a while. To think of a young woman not knowing how to smile makes me feel very sad indeed. Anyway, supper is ready. Help yourself to as much as you want. You're looking rather too skinny for me liking.' He sits opposite you and hands you your utensils and a bow, before letting you dish out yours first.

You take a bite of the stew; it was delicious! The meat was so tender it practically dissolved in your mouth, and the vegetables tasted fresh, like they'd only just come out of the ground. You wolf down your bowl, and make to go seconds, before remembering where you are. You stop yourself before you can. Suddenly, he pulls your bowl towards himself, grabs the ladle, and fills it again, before pushing it back to you. You look at him, curious.

'I told you, have as much as you want. I can't eat it all by meself after all. Besides, it's been so long since I cooked for anyone. It's nice to see someone else eating what I've made. How is it?' You make a start on your second bowl before finally saying something for the first time since you met him.

'It's wonderful!' You exclaim happily, grinning widely. You seem to have forgotten all your initial misgiving about him. Undertaker grins back at you.

'Good, I'm glad. About time someone gave you a good meal I bet. How long have you been on the streets for, if you don't mind me asking?' You swallow your mouthful, and consider your options; do you tell him the truth, or give him a false story?

Not wanting to repay his kindness with lies, you opt for answering truthfully. 'About a month. My husband divorced me and kicked me out of the house. I've been living in an alleyway ever since.' He seems quite sympathetic.

'Dear me, what a terrible thing to do to a young lady. Do you feel comfortable telling me why he would do something so awful to you?' You hesitate, but there's something about him that makes you want to tell him your story.

'My husband had been cheating on me for years. At first I thought all the women visiting him were clients or something, but I soon discovered I was wrong when I walked in on him having sex with one of them. I wanted so badly to leave him, but he wouldn't let me; he started using force to prevent my leaving. Then just over a month ago, my former husband and I visited the manor of Lord Phantomhive. I…' you falter, unsure if you should confess all to a total stranger. Before you can continue, Undertaker interjects.

'Let me guess, you were seduced by the butler, who then proceeded to tell your husband, presumably providing some kind of evidence? Your husband divorced you, and used your infidelity as leverage to get some kind of payout, before casting you aside and moving on to the next poor woman?' You look at him, stunned. How did he know?

Your question must have been written all over your face, because he answered it without you even asking. 'I work for the young Lord Ciel on occasion, providing him with information in exchange for a fee. I take it that you must be the former Mrs. Scottington? Servant and Master both were in here asking about him a while back. If I had known they were to involve you in their little scheme, I would have kept my mouth shut. I do not like it when innocents end up involved in things such as this.' Well, shit. And you were just starting to like this man.

Undertaker sees your distress, and tries to calm you. 'Me dear, I swear on me life that I didn't know they would use you in such a way. I am truly, deeply sorry.' You wish you could see his eyes, to see if there was any truth in them. Alas, they're covered by his hair, so all you can do is trust your gut instinct; that he's telling the truth.

'It's alright. It's a little late in the day for apologies. I think your kindness has made up for your part in my misfortune. But if you'll excuse me, I really should leave now.' You stand up, but he makes to stop you.

'Leave? Now? But it's dark outside. And terribly cold. Why not stay the night? I've a bed that's more than comfortable, you're welcome to it.' And here's the catch; this man wanted repayment for his kindness after all.

'If I stay the night here, you'll let me go in the morning?' You need to know where you stand; is this a one-off repayment, or would he expect you to remain longer? He did do a lot for you tonight, maybe he wants individual repayments on everything. A fuck for finding you, a fuck for feeding you… or would once be enough?

'If you really want to, you can leave first thing. I won't stop you. Now come, the bedroom is this way.'

You follow him, going into yet another room ('his 'home' really is rather big,' you think to yourself.). This room contains only one thing; a large and rather dusty-looking double bed.

He shakes the duvet, trying to shift some of the dust. 'Here we are, a little bit dusty, but it should be plenty comfortable!' He looks at you and grins.

Steeling your nerves, you remove your robe, baring yourself to him. He looks at you, genuinely perplexed, as you saunter over to him. As you reach out to him, he gently grabs your wrists, stopping you.

'As long as it's been since I've had a beautiful woman approach me naked, I think you should get some rest. If you do decide not to scurry off first thing, I'll be making pancakes for breakfast. If you need anything in the night, just knock on the coffin in the main room with a crimson cross on it. That's where I'll be sleeping. Goodnight.' And with that, he releases his hold on you and exits the room, leaving you feeling perplexed. 'So when he said I was welcome to his bed, he meant just that; that I was welcome to it. Just me. No catch. Well, shit!' your thoughts rapidly turn from confusion into embarrassment; you'd let this total stranger see you totally naked, AGAIN, and had attempted to offer yourself to him. Today was just the worse.

Suddenly feeling very tired indeed, you decide to crawl into the bed naked. Not your usual bedroom attire, but there was no way you were sleeping in that robe; you'll boil to death!

As you drift off, you try to think of a plan for tomorrow. Should you stay for breakfast, and talk more with the Undertaker? Or should you leave, and start your new life as a common whore?

'Best to speak with the Undertaker', you think. 'If he's helped me this far without reward, maybe he'll be willing to help me a little more. After all, he did seem sorry about all that's happened to me…' becoming too tired to think anymore, your thoughts dissolve into nothingness, and you fall into the inky darkness of dreams.


	4. Misunderstanding

The morning arrives faster than you would have liked, and you reluctantly rise from the Undertaker's bed. Last night had been the most restful night of your life. The bed was unbelievably soft, and the thick duvet kept you warm despite your state of undress. You wanted nothing more than to snuggle your way back to sleep, but that wouldn't do at all; you needed to see the Undertaker. Maybe if you spoke to him, he'd let you stay just a while longer. Putting on your borrowed robe with as much haste as you could, you leave the room to seek out man in question.

Your first thought is to check the kitchen; he did say he was making pancakes, after all. A quick check reveals that he's not there. The bathroom maybe? Again, your search turns up nothing. You try to think back to last night; where did he say he'd be again?

Oh, that's right. In a coffin.

You walk through the parlour room and into the room with all the coffins. You didn't get the chance to look at it yesterday (owing to the darkness of the evening) but the cold light of day revealed it to be a shop of some kind. The realisation makes you blush; how many customers had come in and seen your state of undress? It was bad enough that one person had, but the thought of many makes you feel ashamed. Then you look at the door; there's an open sign facing you. You assume it's one of those open/close signs that one flips to indicate the shop's current status. If you're reading 'open', then everyone else must see 'closed', and since you don't remember the Undertaker changing it at any point…

Ah, he must have flipped it before he prepared you. That makes sense. After all, the sight of a cadaver would probably put a lot of people off.

You scan the room, looking for the coffin with the crimson cross. You see it propping up against a wall near the desk.

Hesitantly, you knock on the coffin. You hear a muffled groan before the coffin opens. 'Mmm, good morning my dear. Slept well, I take it? You're looking a lot brighter than you did yesterday.' He steps out of the coffin, stretching, and continues to speak before you can answer him. 'I take it you want me to unlock the door for you? You were so eager to leave last night, yet I rather hoped you'd change your mind after a good night's rest. Ah well, guess that was just a foolish old man's loneliness talking. I'll unlock the door for you now.' He ambles over to the door, legs looking like they were made of lead.

You finally reply to his questions. 'I slept well, thank you. Actually, I was rather hoping we could talk, perhaps over breakfast? You mentioned pancakes yesterday I believe.' His demeanour changes immediately. 'Yes, yes, of course me dear. I'd love to have a little chat! Go and wait for me in the kitchen, I have to pop out quickly!' With that, he leaves the building like a gust of wind, accidentally slamming the door behind him. You think you hear something fall down outside, but you don't concern yourself with it. Instead, you make your way to the kitchen as instructed.

-t/s-

You're not sure how long it's been, but eventually the Undertaker returns, carrying a pint of milk, a bag of flour, and a dozen eggs. You understand now; he needed ingredients. You're unsure why he said he was making pancakes if he didn't have any ingredients, but it doesn't really bother you; all you're interested in is eating and talking.

He whips up the batter, and puts a tiny drop of oil in the pan. He spoons some of the mixture into the pan, and proceeds to make the first pancake. After about thirty seconds, he turns to you. 'Want to flip it?' He asks. You politely decline; it would feel weird, doing something so childish with a man you don't hardly know. He merely shrugs and does it himself.

In no time at all, the undertaker has whipped up over a dozen pancakes. 'How does you do it?' you think to yourself. He offers you honey to sweeten them with, then goes off to prepare a pot of tea. But the time he returns, tea and beakers in hand, you've already finished all of your pancakes, and start to look longingly at his. He must notice, because after he's poured tea for the two of you he dumps half of his pancakes on your plate. You're about to protest when he silences you with a finger on you lips and what you think is a wink; you can only partially see his eye through his bangs.

Once you've both finished your breakfast, you finally decide that now is the best time to talk.

'So, Mr Undertaker, I was wondering… is there anyway I could convince you to let me stay a while longer? It's just that, being on the street is so difficult, and I'm scared of what I'll do if I stay there.' You try to keep your voice steady, but he can hear the undercurrent of fear in it. 'I can pay for you for the trouble! Here!' You hand him the money Sebastian gave you for 'services rendered' yesterday. 'I hope that's enough to convince you to keep me, at least for a little while longer. If it's not, I can get more! Please don't make me live in the streets anymore!' You start sobbing then, tears almost stinging as they flowed down your face. You had only intended to ask him, not beg him. He must think you pathetic. And offering to give him more money? Where in God's name were you going to get it from? Maybe you could go to Sebastian again, just as you'd planned. You'd think of something.

One of Undertaker's hands rises to caress your face, wiping away the tears as best he can without scratching you with his nails. The other hand places the money you just gave him back into your open palm. 'I have no use for the Queen's Coins,' he tells you. 'If you wish to stay here, you'll need to give me a much sweeter form of payment.'

Your heart sinks. You genuinely thought that he wasn't interested in you like that, not after last night. It seems like you're stuck between two impossible places; you can either live on the streets, and whore yourself out to anyone who's willing, or you could stay here, and allow this man to take you as he pleased in exchange for food and a roof over your head.

You weigh up your options carefully.

If you leave now, you'll be back to where you were yesterday, albeit with a full stomach. People would come and go as they always did, either tossing change at you without looking or ignoring you completely. You could also sell yourself as planned, dragging men into the alleyway to earn a meal. After a while, you'll probably end up with child, and end up dying from some infection shortly after its birth, praying that it never knows what kind of mother it had.

If you remain however, your life needn't be like that. You'd have food, shelter, clean water, you wouldn't have to worry about a thing. All you'd have to do is let the same man have his way with you once in a while. That was it. The only catch.

You may have been reluctant to repay the Undertaker last night, but this was different; it seems as if you'll have to sleep with men no matter what you choose, so why not let it be only the one man? One man who, for all his apparent eccentricities, had been remarkably kind to you so far. After careful consideration, you give the Undertaker your answer.

'I'll pay you in anyway you want. Please let me stay.' To illustrate your willingness, you slide the hand on your face down to meet your breast. He gives it a light squeeze.

'Mm, you have remarkably round breasts, me dear, but for now, let us discus what I want from you.' He removes his hand and stands up, urging you to follow him.

He leads you into the bedroom. 'Take a seat, me dear.' He pats on the bed, and you do as he asks. You watch him nervously as he reaches for something under the bed. 'No peeking!' He says jovially, which catches you off guard a bit. Surely he should be a bit more serious, given the circumstances.

Suddenly, he grabs your ankle. You jolt, but he holds it still. You begin to wonder what he has in store for you, but then you feel it; a tickling sensation on the bottom of your foot. Soft at first, but quickly growing in speed and intensity. You thrash about, desperate to be free of this torture, and then it happens; you start laughing. It feels forced, as if it's been torn out of you, but it seems to satisfy the Undertaker. He releases you ankle and stands before you, and you finally see what it was that he retrieved from under the bed; a feather.

The Undertaker chuckles. 'There we are. A whole week's rent, paid in advance.' You blink at him, genuinely confused. 'What is it, me dear. You look troubled.' He says, stroking your face with his hand. The gesture feels too intimate, but you don't back away for fear of upsetting him.

'Is that all you wanted? To tickle me? Why? I thought…' you stop yourself, embarrassed yet again. No point in telling him your thoughts if he hasn't reached the same mental conclusion.

Realisation dawns on his face despite your efforts to keep your thoughts from him. 'Ohhh, you thought I wanted sex!' He erupts into a fit of giggles, and suddenly you want to crawl away a die. The situation was humiliating enough without him laughing about it!

He wipes the tears of joy from his eyes. 'Oh, ho. Make it two week's rent, that was priceless! No, no. That's not something I'd ask for in exchange for favours. If it was willing offered I'd probably take it, but I'm not going to force you into it. Is that why approached me last night, and let me grab you a moment ago?' You nod, hanging your head in shame. 'Oh deary me, you have had a rough time lately, haven't you? Then let me clear this up once and for all. I desire two things from you; your company, and your laughter. Laughter is so much rarer than coin these days, and so I value it above all else. So long as you continue to fulfil these two desires, then all that I have is yours to use as you please. No tricks, no games. You may take it or leave it. So what will it be?'

You can't believe your ears. This man, who has known you for less than 24 hours, is offering you a chance to stay off of the streets indefinitely, and all he wants is your company and laughter. You subtly pinch yourself, convinced that this is all a dream. But it isn't; this is real. You fight off the urge to fall at his feet in gratitude.

'I… thank you, Mr Undertaker. I accept your offer.' That's all you can manage without bursting into sobs again. Maybe his kindness is born out of guilt for playing a part in causing your downfall, but you don't care; if he's willing to help you, you're willing to forgive him anything.

'Good. Glad that's settled. There is one other thing we need to settle, however; you have no clothes! We must fix that at once. Come with me!' And with that, he drags you through the building and out the door. He proceeds to buy you two new dresses, a pair of shoes, a nightgown and some undergarments, as well as a small chest to keep them in. After a full day's shopping, you both return home with your purchases. You change into your new nightie, and join him in the dining room for dinner.

Once the food is all eaten, the two of you go your separate ways; you to the bedroom, him to his coffin. Just as he heads to leave however, he gives you a soft peck on your cheek. 'Sleep well, my lovely. See you in the morning.' And with that, he's gone.

You settle into bed, once again glad to be in its warm embrace. Tonight as you settle down, your thoughts once again return to the Undertaker (your favourite subject at the moment). You begin to wonder why he desires your company, why he chose his profession if he craves company so much, and what his face looks like under all that hair. 'I imagine he's pretty ugly' you think, then scold yourself internally. Does it really matter? All that matters is that he's nice and that he's taken you in. Looks really don't really matter here. I mean, if he had made you sleep with him then they would matter a bit. But he didn't, so there. Sorted. Simple…

You really have to see what he looks like!

Alas, there's nothing you can do about it right now. Maybe you can ask him in the morning. For now, the best thing for you is sleep.

As you drift off, remember the most curious thing.

Just how comforting it was when the Undertaker touched your face.


	5. Unwanted Visit

**A/N Hey all, thank you all so much for reading the story so far. There shall be more lemons coming soon, but for now have some nudity and angst ;)**

Six months have passed since the Undertaker found you, and essentially saved you from total poverty. He'd stayed true to his word, asking nothing more of you than company and laughter. In return, he has given you food, shelter, clothes, books… anything you wanted, it was yours. You often wonder how he afforded it all, given his hatred of 'The Queen's Coins'. You know how he'd come by some of it; about a month ago you had insisted that he take your money after all. 'I don't have any need for it, but I don't imagine looking after me is cheap.' You'd told him. 'If you insist, me dear, but it really isn't necessary. Looking after you is a privilege, in my eyes.' Then he'd flashed you a smile. That wonderful smile of his…

Oh dear. You're starting to have 'those thoughts' again. In the months since he'd taken you in, you had started to notice things. Small things, at first. The way he giggled to himself when he thought you weren't around. The way he held things so delicately, like he was worried they'd shatter beneath him. The way he smiled, and the way it made your heart run wild…

The way you'd started to care for him, as more than just a crazy landlord.

You had initially wondered if it was the effects of being cooped up with him for so long, but you soon figured that wasn't it; you weren't a prisoner here, you were free to come and go as you pleased. Sometimes Undertaker would even send you on little errands for him, and you always accompanied him to the funerals. Maybe it was your gratitude talking? Nah, you don't think it's that. If that was the case, you wouldn't be able to see any flaws with the man, and you could certainly see them; particularly his fondness for practical jokes. You swear, if he jumps out at you from another damn coffin, he's going to need one for real!

In the end, you can't explain why you feel the way that you do. All you know is that you're falling in love with the Undertaker; Which is incredible, given that you don't even know his name or what his whole face looks like. You had tried asking about his name last week, to which he had simply replied 'I gave it up a long time ago.' You had asked for an explanation, but he ignored the question and changed the subject. You'd been mad at him ever since, which seemed to make him quite upset; he'd even stopped giving you your goodnight peck on the cheek, which upset you even more than him stonewalling you.

As to the issue of his face, you figure that your initial hypothesis must be correct; he's ugly. Probably horribly so, if his reaction the first time you'd asked to see it was anything to go by. 'Nope, sorry, no can do, not happening, end of story, no.' It was as if you'd asked him to strip down completely and go shopping! You'd dropped the subject yourself that time, concerned about upsetting his self-esteem. Not telling you his name or about his past might be hurtful, but being ashamed about the way he looks is completely different. After all, he chose his past; no one gets to choose their face.

You let out a yawn; all this thinking really isn't health first thing in the morning.

Stepping out of bed and onto the cold wooden floor, you go to find Undertaker so the two of you could eat together. He tends to sleep in later than you, so this has become somewhat routine for you now.

Just as you begin to make your way to his coffin, you hear a splashing sound coming from the bathroom. Curious, you decide to investigate.

You tip-toe up to the door and, seeing it slightly ajar, peek into the bathroom. What you see almost makes you faint. Undertaker is stood in the middle of the bathroom, head tipped back, hair away from his face…

Completely naked.

You raise a hand over your mouth to stifle your gasp; he's gorgeous! How you ever thought he was ugly is a total mystery to you now, as you stare at the man in question.

The first thing you notice about him is his arms; the muscles on them are beautifully well-defined, presumably a side effect of all the heavy lifting and digging he has to do.

The next thing was his torso; it was littered with scars. 'Maybe that explains why he doesn't talk about his past,' you think. As for the physical make up of his chest, he wasn't exactly ripped, but he definitely had some serious muscle. You could make out the lines of his abs faintly, the water tripping off of them tantalisingly.

Following the water downwards, you notice yet another thing about him; his penis. Somewhat shrivelled (presumably due to the coldness of the water) it's still rather thick-looking. You're willing to bet it's just as impressive as the rest of his body when it's erect.

The last thing you notice is his face; you really have saved the best until last. A large scar goes from the bottom of the right side of his face and up past the left eye, but if anything that only adds to his overall appearance. His face is so magnificent, it makes you want to cry. There are no words in your vocabulary that can sum up how much you want to touch him, to taste him, to get on your hands and knees and beg him to take you. You may have fallen for him as a person, but now you long for him as a man.

You're about to contemplate sticking your hand between your legs to ease the ache building there when he speaks.

'I know you're there, me dear. Why so shy? You're more than welcome to join me…' he giggles a little, and your blood runs cold; he's caught you peeping on him. Refusing his offer, which you're sure is him just toying with you, you scurry off into the kitchen and try to calm your breathing. My God, what have you done? There's no way he'd let you stay now! Six months of safety and security totally ruined by your inner pervert! You only hope he lets you dress before kicking you out; the idea of roaming the street of London in winter wearing nought but a nightie is enough to make you want to cry. So you do, pulling your legs into your chest and letting the tears fall silently.

After a few moments, a now fully-clothed Undertaker appears. He begins breakfast preparations as normal, only realising your distress after placing a plate in front of you.

'What's wrong, me dear? I'm not that ugly, am I?' He tries to make you smile, but that only turns your silent tears into violent sobs. Sighing, he scoops you into his arms before sitting in your chair. Instead of trying to calm you with his words, he merely moves you so you're straddling him, face buried in robe. He gently places one hand on your waist, and uses the other to stroke your head.

You stay like that for what feels like an eternity while you try to get your thoughts together. The first thing you think is that you're overreacting. This isn't the first mistake you've made since you've been here. In fact, it probably wasn't even the biggest, especially if you include the time that you'd managed to spill ink all over Undertaker's paperwork. If that had been your former husband he would have beaten you black and blue. Undertaker had just laughed and said 'well, I've always hated paperwork anyway. You've probably done me a favour!' before bursting into giggles as usual.

Thinking all this helps you calm down enough to talk. 'I'm s-s-sorry. It w-won't happen again. Ju-u-ust please don't-t kick me out-t.' He uses his hands to delicately reposition you, straightening you up so he can see your face. He caresses it softly as he speaks. 'When have I ever threatened to kick you out, hm? Not once. We have an agreement, you and I, and I'll not go back on it. This is now as much your home as it is mine. The only one who can make you leave is you. I rather like having such a pretty companion living with me. Puts me customers at ease and all. So enough with these tears. Besides, if you remember, I've seen you naked twice before now. You've technically still got one free past before I start punishing you for perving.' He says with a wink. You've all but stopped crying now, his words putting you at ease. He really had a gift for making you feel better.

'Thank you, Undertaker. I think I owe you an apology regardless.' You say, thinking back to the way you'd treated him the last week.

'You do? What on earth for?' Had he really forgotten so quickly?

'I didn't mean to pry about your past like I did, and I should have respected your decision to keep quiet. I've acted like a spoilt brat, and I'm sorry.'

He grins, and moves his hands away from your face so he can give you a kiss on the cheek. 'All is forgiven. I'm just glad you're not mad anymore. I rather getting to kiss you goodnight.' You blush, and he takes that as a sign that you're all better. He lifts you off of him so he can resume making breakfast. You take a seat once more, watching him as he cooks. 'He really is something else.' You think to yourself.

-t/s-

The rest of the morning passes without incident. You eat your breakfast, get dressed, and join Undertaker in his shop. You've been acting as his assistant ever since he took you in, helping him deal with clients and the like. As the shop is empty this morning, you take it upon yourself to clean the place, while Undertaker does some book-keeping.

The morning passes remarkably quickly, and before you know it, it's gone four. Not a single customer has visited today, but that was just fine by the two of you; it gave you a chance to talk and have a laugh without worrying about scaring people off.

As you go to put your cleaning stuff away, you hear the bell chime, and begin to wonder who would visit now? You can only assume it's either someone who's been busy all day or an over-eager relative who wants to get rid of their loved one as quickly as possible.

Both theories are discarded as soon as you hear Undertaker's voice. 'Ah, good afternoon my Young Lord. I take it you're here about that incident in Hyde Park? I hope you bought payment, because this one is going to cost ya.' Your heart drops into your gut, and your head begins to spin. Memories of your first conversation with the Undertaker speed into the forefront of your mind. Surely not. This had to be a different 'Young Lord'. There was no way fate would be so cruel.

But as you return to the shop, you realise that you should have learnt by now that fate is a cruel mistress that seeks only to make your life miserable. Stood in the middle of the shop is none other than Lord Ciel Phantomhive. And behind him? The devil himself of course.

Sebastian.

You feel sick. You want nothing more than for the ground to swallow you up and smother you. Stood not five foot away from you is the man who ruined your life, and the master that told him to do it.

Sebastian notices you enter. 'Why, if it isn't the former Lady Scottington. You're looking rather well, my dear. Find someone to feed you scraps, did you?' He smirks, and you find yourself frozen to the spot. You've yet to tell Undertaker what happened between the two of you in that alleyway, for fear of what he would think of you. Your time together, as well as this morning's events, has shown that he wouldn't kick you out, but you're sure he'd think so much less of you if he knew you'd let this man fuck you in exchange for money.

'Sebastian, now really isn't the time for games. Pay the man and let's go.' Ciel spoke with an air of impatience. 'Forgive me, my Young Lord, but I believe I already paid the young lady over there. Such a pliant young thing, I take it you too pay her for much more than her assistance in the shop, Undertaker?' That was it, the secret was out. Undertaker might be daft, but he wasn't stupid. He'll be able to interpret that statement easily enough.

To your surprise, Undertaker's voice takes on a dangerous edge. 'Unlike you, I don't need to pay for such privileges. Here is the information you came for.' He hands Ciel a file, before looking Sebastian straight in the eye. 'I'll ask you not to address the young lady in such a way again, unless you want me to treat you like the noxious beast you really are, _Sebastian_.' You're left stunned. No one has ever stood up for you like that before. Sebastian gave the Undertaker a glare.

'Thank you for the information. We'll be on our way now.' Ciel leaves the shop first, giving Sebastian the opportunity to have the last word. 'Oh by the way, you should consider my suggestion. She makes for a delightful little whore.' With that, he's gone.

Undertaker walks to the door, locking it and flipping the sign. He turns to face you.

'I think we need to have a little chat, sweetheart.'


	6. Climax

Undertaker leads you to the bedroom. Your whole body feels numb. For six months you've lived in total bliss, being cared for by someone who desires nothing more than companionship and laughter. But now you fear that your happy life here is over. How can you expect the Undertaker to look you in the eyes again, knowing what you've done? How can he still care for you, a filthy whore who allowed herself to be fucked for the sake of money? Surely he'll hate you now, treat you like the vermin you are. How long would it be before his attitude towards you became so toxic you'll have to leave your place of sanctuary? You'll find out soon enough; you've arrived at your destination.

Undertaker sits on the bed, and pats the spot next to it, expecting you to sit. However, in your current state of self-loathing, you don't feel able to talk to him as an equal. Instead you decide to give him your last scrap of dignity, hoping that he'll spare you the humiliation of rejection. You fall to your knees in front of him.

'I'm so sorry,' you begin 'I didn't know how to tell you about what I'd done. You've been so kind, and I was afraid you'd think less of me, so I kept it quiet. But please, you have to forgive me. I was…' you start to cry, and have to take a breath to compose yourself. 'I was so hungry. I didn't think I'd ever see food again. When I first saw Sebastian, I was angry. He'd just ruined my life, after all. But when he offered me money in exchange for my body, I knew I wasn't in a position to refuse him. So I let him do it. Let him take me again, so I wouldn't stave on the street like so many others. And you know what? I even enjoyed it, and that makes me feel sick. So please, Undertaker, forgive me. Accept my apology, and try not to look at me like the vermin that I am.' You begin to sob at his feet.

Having let you say what you needed to say, he finally speaks. 'You're not vermin.' His voice sounds different. There's not a single trace of humour in it. It's alarming enough that you raise you head to look at him. 'You're not. You're a beautiful, kind, amazing woman, and I'm privileged just to know you.' You don't believe him. He's just trying to make you feel better.

He gently puts his hands on your sides, and coaxes you into his arms. He holds you, much like he did this morning. The big difference is that this time, he's not going to wait for you to stop crying before he talks; this time, he needs to tell you how he feels.

'You really doubt me, don't you? Can't say I blame you. I know I have a habit of not taking things seriously enough. Or is it your own treatment that's made you so insecure? If that's the case, then let me tell you this right now; you really are beautiful, in every sense of the word. A few bad decisions haven't tarnished your beauty, so why let them tarnish your self-worth? You have come to mean the world to me. The best parts of my day are the ones we spend together, and every night when I kiss you goodbye, I wish you were sleeping in my arms. I know you probably think I'm just a creepy old man who's gone without any real companionship for so long he's desperate, but that's simply not true; even if I had other women to pick from, I'd still choose you. So please stop crying. It breaks my heart when you cry.' You look up at him, and see a single silvery tear falling from his eye.

The weight of Undertaker's confession takes a while to sink in; he may not have used the word 'love', but his meaning seems clear enough. As harsh as it sounds, you wish you had more time to process what he's just said, but you know he'll expect you to reply some how. What do you do? Do you thank him for his kind words and feign ignorance as to the meaning in them? Do you confess your own feelings towards him? As hard as it would be to confess, hadn't he basically just given you a whole monologue guaranteeing he wouldn't reject you?

Feeling bold, you raise your hand to his face, and use your thumb to wipe away his tear. You hear him take in a breath, and decide to take a huge risk. You thread your fingers through his hair, and hesitantly brush it away from his face, knocking his hat off in the process. Surprisingly, he doesn't stop you, and soon you're able to see his whole face.

Even though you'd already caught a glimpse of it this morning, you were no less taken aback than you had been then; the man had a face more desirable than any other. Or maybe it was the fact that you'd gotten to know him so well that made it all the more appealing? Either way, you know gorgeous when you see it.

You look him in the eyes; oh my god, those eyes. You'd never seen anyone with eyes like his. The iris' are a delightful green colour closest to the pupil, and there's an almost yellowy colour surrounding the green. It's as if he has two different iris'. The look in his eyes is one of uncertainty; does he really not know how stunning he is?

Then it dawns on you why he feels that way; his scar. Although it appears faded now, you can tell that it must have been very angry-looking at one point. You wonder how he got it, but you know it's best not to ask him now; it'll ruin the moment. Instead, you decide to do something tender, something you hope will ease his insecurity. Starting at his jawline, you kiss your way along his scar.

You hear him gasp, and feel his lashes brush against your face as he closes his eyes. Slowly you work your way across the scar, trying to express you total acceptance of it through your kisses. When you reach its end, you pull back to look at him. He reopens his eyes, and this time all you see in them is love. You lean in slowly, intent on kissing him…

Suddenly, your stomach howls with hunger. You blush crimson, embarrassed at having ruined such a perfect moment!

Undertaker chuckles, rather that giving his usual giggle. 'Sounds like someone needs feeding. Why don't you wash up before dinner? I'll make sure it's extra tasty tonight. You need a good meal in you after today I think. Those tears burn more energy than you think.' He strokes your face, as he always does when you're sad, and you wish more than anything you could continue sitting with him like this. But alas, the moment is gone, and you have to remove yourself from his embrace.

-t/s-

After giving yourself a quick scrub with a flannel, you try to decide what to wear. Changing back into what you had been in all day was out of the question, but you were unsure if it was appropriate to eat dinner in a nightgown. Then again, you'd just been sat in the lap of your only dining companion kissing his face, so you don't think appropriate really applies here anymore. Besides, it's not like he's ever once commented on your choice of dress. You could walk in there naked and he wouldn't care.

Well, after his confession a moment ago, you're inclined to think he'd take you against the kitchen table, so maybe clothes were advisable.

Sighing in defeat, you put on your nightie, and head to the kitchen.

By the time you arrive, Undertaker (who still has his face on full display) has already dished up; a hearty chicken casserole, complete with crusty bread. A positive feast.

He dishes you up a portion as you sit down. 'Thank you, Undertaker.' He smiles at you. 'Anything for you, my lovely.' He's still using his serious voice. You eat in silence for a while, before he talks again. 'Did I ever tell you about my greatest mistake?' You pause, spoon halfway to your mouth. He's rarely spoken of his past before. Maybe after earlier he's willing to open up more. You shake your head.

'No? Didn't think I had. Don't tell just anyone this story.' He stares at you, as if will you to see how much this means to him. You reach out the hand not grasping your spoon, and intertwine it with his. He begins his story.

'A long time ago, another lifetime in fact, I lived a simple life. A quiet life, surrounded by friends and family. We didn't have much, but it was enough. There was even a girl I liked. Not quite as much as I like you, mind, please don't get jealous.' He looks at you expecting you to be mad; you squeeze his hand lightly, indicating that you're not. 'But after a time, I started to lose my enthusiasm for things. My father would always ask me to help with with work, and normally I was delighted to oblige, but something changed my attitude. Something was starting to change who I was.

'It was all downhill from there. My father had to work twice as hard because I couldn't bring myself to help. It was making him ill, but he had no choice, he couldn't let my family starve. I stoped leaving the house, isolating myself from everyone. I even told my first love that she meant nothing to me. I was a broken man.' Your heart sinks at his confession; you have difficulty comprehending how someone like the Undertaker could feel so sad. He eats some more of his food before he continues.

'My life had reached a point where there were two paths open to me; I could salvage what I had left, or I could throw it all away. That was the day I make my biggest mistake. That was the day I threw my life away.' His confession shakes you a bit. You've never seen Undertaker give up on anything. He'd never given up on you, that's for sure.

'Not long after I made my choice, a group of men approached me. They told me I was to work for them as punishment for my mistake. So I did. I spent longer than I care to remember working for them. Day in and day out I did their bidding, until one day I decided I'd had enough. I left their organisation, and set up shop here. My life is quiet again, much like it once was.' You stare at him in silence for a while, trying to take it all in. You both finish dinner, hands remaining intertwined. Only when you both finish eating do you finally speak.

'Thank you for telling me this, Undertaker. I can't express how much it means to me that you would trust me enough to tell me all of that.' He raises your interlocked hands to his face, and kisses your wrist. You have to lean over the table to allow him to do so.

'My telling you does have a point, you know.' He stands, still not relinquishing his hold on you.

'It does?' You ask, trying not to falter as he guides you towards the door.

'Indeed it does. Shall I tell you my pretty?' He leads you to the bedroom. Stopping just outside, he releases his hold on you. You try not to look disappointed as you nod in answer to his question.

'I once made a terrible mistake, but somehow it has lead me to this moment. To you. Likewise, that demon using you as he did is part of the reason you're here, isn't it?' You think about what he says, and he's right; if you hadn't accepted Sebastian's deal, you wouldn't have fallen asleep as you did. Undertaker wouldn't have thought you dead, and you wouldn't be in your current position.

Undertaker must read your comprehension, as he continues. 'You see? We can both sit and cry over our mistakes, but in the end, they are what brought us together, and I have no plans to cry over that.' He leans in to kiss you goodnight, only this time he isn't aiming for your cheek.

He kisses your lips. Just a touch, but enough to set your heart racing.

He turns to leave, but you grab his arm. Curious, he turns to face you again.

Putting on your most sultry voice you say 'I believe early you said something about me sleeping in your arms? You can do that if you're in your coffin, can you?' You expect him to laugh, or to kindly turn down your offer; what you don't expect is for him is grab you hips and speak into your ear.

'I'm afraid that if I do stay, I'll find it hard to control myself. I don't want you to feel like I'm using you. Our agreement hasn't changed; I expect nothing more from you than laughter and companionship. But, if you wish to offer me things outside of said agreement, I'd be a fool to turn you down.' He moves his head back, awaiting your response.

Deciding that being bold has served you well so far, you decide to respond in kind, flicking his earrings with your tongue before whispering 'I do wish to offer you a little extra something. It's called my body, and for tonight at least, it's all yours. I'm placing myself in your hands tonight, both literally and figuratively. All I'm asking in return is for you not to throw me away when you're done.' Your slide your arms around his neck, and he uses his grip on your waist to softly coax you into the bedroom.

The room is dark, save for the glow of moonlight. You've hadn't realised it until now, but the room did feel rather romantic.

'That's a very generous offer, sweetheart. I gladly accept. Just make sure to tell me if something doesn't feel right; you may have offered yourself to me, but that doesn't mean you can't take that offer away. Just say the word and I'll stop.' His hands tenderly caress your face and neck as he waits for you to finalise the deal.

'I promise, I'll tell you. Please, Undertaker, make love to me.' Your choice of phrase is enough to make his breath hitch, but he quickly regains composure. He moves his hands to your shoulders, and starts to slide your nightgown off. You close your eyes, allowing your body to submit to the feeling of his hands on you. Lower and lower the garment slides, until your breasts are bare.

To your surprise, Undertaker doesn't stop there. He continues to pull the garment down, lowering himself as he goes. By the time your body is bare, he's kneeling before you, as if in prayer. You stumble back onto the bed, expecting him to rise up and join you. Instead, he remains on the floor, pulling off his robe to reveal his body to you. You wish there was more light in the room, but thankfully you still have your memories from earlier to fill in your mental image of him. He crawls over to you, and spreads your legs so that they're dangling over his shoulders. You prop yourself up to look at him, and he speaks.

'Excluding the man currently between your thighs, how many men have you taken to bed?' It's a curious question, given the circumstances. Nevertheless, you reply. 'Two. Two men.'

'Ah, I see. And did either of those men explore you at all?' You're not sure what he's asking exactly, so you respond as best you can. 'They mostly just focused on one part of me. Occasionally my breasts have been toyed with, but both of my past bedmates were more interesting in satisfying their own needs, rather than mine.' You start to blush; why were you telling him all this?

'They were both fools. A woman isn't a tool, solely to be used for personal pleasure. A woman is a remarkable creature, capable of many wonderful things. Did you know that some women can even have multiple orgasms in one sex session? Do you know if you're capable of such a thing?' You shake your head. 'So no one has ever tried? What a pity. Better rectify that now.' And with that, he buries his face between your legs, and shoves his tongue inside you.

The scream you let out is loud enough to wake the dead, and he seems to greatly approve of this. He works your channel, thrusting in and out in a steady rhythm. It feels strange, having someone's face between your legs, but as the feeling of ecstasy spreads in you, you decide that strange is definitely a good thing.

Undertaker slides his hands up your body, locating your now-erect nipples and toying with them. You know you're going to climax soon, it's just a matter of time.

As if sensing your current state, Undertaker withdraws his tongue and sucks down on your clit. That's all it takes you make you scream his name in pure euphoria. Your whole body goes tense as he helps you through your orgasm, his continued movements lengthening it considerably. By the time you're done, you feel like you're floating. Why had no man done that for you before? The feeling of his tongue inside of you was exquisite, and the way he played with your nipples was divine.

He stands, and looms over you. You can just about make out his trademark grin in the darkness. 'I love the sounds you make when I'm pleasuring you. Makes me want to do it again. Would you like that, my treasure?' His words clear the haziness from your mind, and you find yourself ready for more. You pull him on top of you. 'I'll take that as a yes!' He kisses you deeply, thrusting his tongue into your mouth. You can taste yourself on it, adding to your desire evermore.

He knees over you, and wraps your legs around his waist. He rubs his cock along your opening, occasionally knocking your clit. Your body starts to feel too hot, sweat dripping from every part of it. You feel close again, but that's impossible; surely there's no way he'll make you finish again.

True to his word, however, the Undertaker leans down to suckle a breast, and replaces his cock rubbing against you for two of his fingers sliding inside you. You orgasm happens suddenly, twice as powerful as the last one. Instead of screaming, this time you moan at the top of your lungs.

The orgasm subsides much quicker this time, a trade off for the increased intensity. Undertaker removes his fingers, taking care not to scratch you. He gives you a quick kiss before getting himself into position. 'Final chance to withdraw your offer. I'll happily leave you in peace now, if that's what you want.' He was still giving you an out. You feel your heart swell. There's no doubt in your mind that you love him now.

'Take me.' You say, and he obliges, sliding into you effortlessly.

He starts of thrusting slowly, easing you into your lovemaking. He starts kissing your face in time with his thrusts, whispering encouragement into your ear.

Eventually, he picks up his pace, rocking into you with enough force to make the bed creak slightly. You lie there in a state of euphoria, totally consumed by him. You can't believe you've lived with this man for so long without experiencing this with him. He's a better lover than you could ever have imagined, and for tonight at least, he's all yours.

He starts to thrust erratically, and you can tell he's close. A few more thrusts, and you feel him release. The feeling is so pure and intense that it triggers one final orgasm, albeit a lightly less powerful one.

As you work to calm your breathing, he pulls out. Scooping you into his arms, he settles into the bed with you, drawing the covers up over you both. You say nothing, too exhausted to speak. He cuddles into you, kissing your hair and whispering what you assume are words of endearment into it; you can't quite make them out.

It doesn't take long before for you both to fall asleep.


	7. A Reprised Agreement

The first thing that hits you as you wake up is just how sore you feel. Your legs ache as if you have run a marathon, and what's in between them isn't fairing much better. The last time you'd felt like this was your wedding night; the only real difference is that this time there is a great deal of satisfaction to accompany the sensation. Undertaker is undoubtedly the best lover you've ever had, although your ex-husband's attitude towards to and Sebastian's cruel manipulation doesn't exactly give him much in the way of competition.

You feel an arm wrap around your waist, and realise that the Undertaker really did stay the night with you. You'd half expected him to take off, to use you and lose you like every other man had. Yet here he is, making small noises of contentment in his sleep. You think yourself a lucky woman indeed, to be the one seeing him like this.

The sun outside the window indicates it's time to get up, but you're not sure if you can bring yourself to wake him. If you do, the night will be officially over, and the deal you'd made will be done. Why had you only given him one night? You should have told him he could take all your nights, each one until your dying day. Alas, it is what it is. Undertaker won't be willing to push you into anymore nights for fear of scaring you off, and you've used up all the bravery you had just to have him for a single evening.

Reluctantly, you sit up in bed, his arm sliding from your torso as you do. You'd give anything to stay with him like this for a little longer, but you know it'll only make things harder. You reach your arm out and shake his shoulder.

'Undertaker? Undertaker? It's time to get up, we have to eat breakfast before any guests arrive.' Undertaker remains unmoving, so you shuffle a little closer to him. You're about to start shaking him again when both of his arms wrap around your waist and bring you into his chest. You start to struggle, surprised at his sudden hold on you. Then, eyes still closed, he starts kissing your neck, causing you to moan. Was he awake and doing this on purpose, or having some kind of waking dream?

You get your answer when you hear a muffled voice.

'Ah, but it's still night my lovely, I haven't opened my eyes yet. That means you're technically still mine for a bit. Up for some more sex? I'll be nice and gentle this time, I promise…' one hand leaves your waist and starts toying with a nipple, and you feel yourself getting wet. You tend to wake up a little horny anyway, but Undertaker's ministrations are enough to send your libido back into overdrive.

With only one arm on you, you easily slip out of his grasp and roll over into your front. You look at him and say 'Alright, but you're doing all the work too, I'm aching too much from last night to do anything overly taxing.' He smirks at you, eyes still tightly shut, and gets into position behind you. Your view of the headboard isn't as nice as the view you had last night, but you've always found this position less taxing than others. He rubs himself along your slit from behind, lubricating himself a little before sliding into you. Having been stretched so much last night, he finds that he can get his cock inside of you completely with almost no resistance.

He begins rocking into you gently, taking care not to take you too hard. He is proving himself to be a man of his word once again. He pulls out slowly, almost leaving you entirely before gently thrusting back in.

The slow pace is driving you man, but it feels glorious. Your whole body feels hot and wonderful, as if you're made to be with him like this.

After what feels like an eternity gently being taken by him, he starts to rub your clit, indicating that he can't be too far off himself. Just as you feel yourself approaching the end, he leans forward to whisper in your ear.

'I love you.'

The passion in his voice, and the feeling of him inside of you is enough to make you finish. You cry out his name softly, before whispering 'I love you, too.'

You don't know if he hears you, but at that moment he finishes too, filling you with his seed once again. You get the feeling you could take him like this every day for the rest of your life and still want more. You start to cry, overcome with passion.

Undertaker pulls out and lies on his back, pulling you over so that you face is resting on his chest. You manage to look up at him, tears still streaming down your face, and see that he's looking at you, eyes finally open.

He waits for you to stop crying before a hand of his comes up to wipe the tears from your eyes. Only when you finally settle does he speak again.

'I can't offer you much. I can't afford to buy us a big fancy house, or to buy you expensive jewels. I can't even marry you, my name and all legal records of mine lost. If we do this, we'll have to live in sin, and I don't know how you'd feel about that. A roof over your head, food, clothes, and all the love I have. That's all there is I can give to you. If that isn't going to be enough, then please tell me now so we can both avoid any heartache. I won't hold it against you, and your place here won't be threatened, I promise. This is as much your home as it is mine now. It would feel empty without you. So please, think about what I'm offering you, and if it's what you want.' You take a few moments to process his statement before you sit up and hover over him, allowing you to look him in the eyes as you respond.

'I used to have a big fancy house, and a lot of expensive jewels. I even used to have a husband. Some days I think back to my pampered life and do you know what I do afterwards? I thank my lucky stars that I don't have those things anymore. Sure, it was nice having fancy things, but it wasn't worth the cost of being married to a man that hated me! The second he found out I'd been unfaithful he didn't fight for me, didn't even find out the reason why I'd done what I'd done. He just ditched me, penniless and alone, on a filthy pavement while he hooked up with some random trollop he'd been seeing on the sly for months. I thought my life was over. Then you found me. You've given me a chance that others will never have, and I'm grateful for everything you've done.' You sit up, and the tears start flowing again. You swallow the lump in your throat before continuing. 'But what you've offered isn't enough. I need two more things from you, or this isn't going to work.'

Undertaker looks heartbroken, tears threatening to spill from his eyes too. He has to take a steadying breath before he speaks. 'I really can't think of anything else I can give you, my love. What is it you want from me? If I have it, it's yours. If not, then at least I had last night, and that's more than I'd ever hoped for.' You coax him into a sitting position and straddle his lap. You caress his face, and he starts to caress yours hesitantly, as if he thinks it's unwanted. You kiss him lightly on the lips before you finally give him your conditions.

'I desire two further things from you; your company, and your laughter.' You smile as realisation dawns on his face, and you're about to say something else when he tackles you onto the bed with a passionate kiss. It knocks the breath out of you, but you don't care. You're too busy returning his kiss with as much enthusiasm as possible.

When he finally lets you break for air, he's giggling; no surprise there then. 'You've made me the happiest man alive. I'll make sure everyday from this day on will be filled with love and laughter. I swear it on my most prized possession!' His giggles are contagious, and you both stay on the bed giggling hysterically with each other.

Eventually, you start to feel cold and hungry. Undertaker notices, and gets off of the bed to fetch you your nightgown. You sit up and slide it over you, before attempting to stand yourself. Your lover seems to have other plans however, as he scoops you into your arms and carries you to breakfast.

-t/s-

The day moves faster than you would have liked; not everyday is the beginning of a new relationship, after all. Undertaker delighted in introducing you as his 'Much Beloved Lady' to all his new clients, and kissing you every time he has a moment to spare. You've worn a grin on your face all day, happiness radiating from your very core. Your life is finally coming together, and as the two of settle in for the evening, you wish everyday could be like this.

Little did know, things were about take an unexpected turn.


	8. Hidden Romantic

The next morning brings you an unexpected shock; when you wake up, Undertaker is gone. Your first thought is a rational one; maybe he's just gotten up to use the toilet. Wouldn't be the first time someone had done that. You yourself have made plenty of early morning trips to the lavatory. When he doesn't return after a few minutes, you begin to grow concerned. You leave bed to look for him.

The first stop is the bathroom; no sign of him there after all. So you check the kitchen; he's not there either. Panic begins to set in, and you begin to pray that he's simply decided to start work early. To your horror, he is nowhere to be seen in the shop. You start searching the coffins, falling into an almost hysterical state. No, he couldn't have just left you, he wouldn't. This was his home, after all. He couldn't just leave it. You fall to your knees, sobbing violently. He's gone.

You hear the bell ring, and look up, hoping the customer won't be scared off by your current state. To your joy, it isn't a customer at all. Standing before you, holding the most colourful bouquet of flowers you've ever seen in your life, is Undertaker.

He sets the flowers down on the nearest coffin and comes rushing towards you. He wraps his arms around you and hugs you to his chest.

'What's wrong, love? Did something happen? Are you injured? Did anyone hurt you?' His aura darkens somewhat at that last question, as if he's plotting to seriously harm anyone who may have caused to grief. You choke out a response before his plotting goes too far.

'I… I t-thought… you weren't there when I woke up. I thought you'd left m-me!' You continue to sob, and the Undertaker lets out a heavy sigh.

'What did I tell you yesterday, hm? That I'd give you all the love I have? Which part of that makes you think I'd abandon you? A part of me has wanted you since I first laid eyes on you. Why would I give you up now that I finally have you?' You start to calm down, and he continues talking. 'Your misinterpretations of my actions have caused you to shed so many tears, and for that I'm sorry. However, it does hurt me that you think I'd be so cruel to you. I've never once been deliberately unkind to you. In fact, I've tried my upmost to keep you happy. So why do you think the worst of me every time that something 'bad' happens?'

You feel a little faint as you realise the truth in his words; you do always think the worst. He's given you your life back, and yet you still think he'll take it all away from you. Just like…

Oh. Just like Sebastian. You're worried Undertaker will use you the same way he did. You've only just realised it, but what Sebastian did has destroyed your trust in people. Even in the one person you know deep down won't hurt you.

As you explain your revelation to Undertaker, he sits there in silence, continuing to hold you to his chest. When you finally finish explaining, he answers.

'The next time that demon walks in here, I'm going to need you to hold me back. I don't verbal sparring will be enough to express my anger at how he's made you feel. At the same time however, he has given me a challenge, and I do love me a challenge!' He stands up with you clinging onto him, hoping he won't accidentally drop you. He takes you to the bedroom, and you assume he's planning to have his way with you again (this man is insatiable!) Much to your surprise, he puts you into the bed rather than on it. Tucking you in, his kisses your forehead before explaining his actions.

'I imagine you'd like to know what the challenge is, hm? Well, it's very simple; he's broken you, so I'm going to fix you. By the time I'm finished with you, you'll never have reason to doubt me again. It will be a lengthy process, of that I have no doubt, but I will succeed. After all, if I was unwilling to do it, I'd be unworthy of loving you, and I'd like to think I'm worth that at least.' He gently caresses your face. 'Now, you stay here, and I'll continue this morning as I had originally planned, although I'm guessing you saw part of my plan when I walked in. Ah, well. You wait here, and I'll be back in a while!' With that, he scurries out the door almost faster than you can blink.

As you wait for his return, you feel more than a little foolish. You hadn't even considered the possibility that he might have popped out for supplies or something. Instead, the irrational part of your mind had just assumed the very worse, and you'd panicked. You're just lucky Undertaker is very forgiving when it comes to your outbursts.

About fifteen minutes after leaving, Undertaker returns, carrying a tray full of food. You also notice he's got the flowers from earlier tucked under his arm. You sit up in bed, and he places the tray on your lap; you've never seen such a feast! Pancakes, fresh fruit, yoghurt, it all looks so delicious! He hands you the flowers too, and you inhale their scent, marvelling at the fragrances.

'I said I couldn't afford jewels, but what kind of man can't give his lady flowers once in a while?' He beams at you. 'All the food on the tray is yours; I ate mine as I was preparing yours. You eat this and I'll find a vase for your flowers. I'm also in the process of preparing a bath for you. It should be done by the time you've finished eating.' You hand him the flowers, and he goes about the tasks he mentioned. You feel a lump build in your throat as you inspect your breakfast further; he's made the pancakes heart-shaped.

He returns shortly after you've finished eating. 'All done? My, you were hungry. Must be all the exercise we did yesterday.' He winks. 'Your bath is ready now, my love. Take as long as you want. When you're done, be sure to put on the nicest dress you own.' You think the request a little odd, given that he's never dictated what you should wear before, but you're willing to trust that there's nothing sinister behind it. After all, he has just promised to fix your trust. He wouldn't jeopardise that.

You choose a long lavender dress, complete with lace trims and a plunging neckline that allows your cleavage to peak out over the top. You also pick out a corset and some stupidly frilly underwear, and proceed to the bathroom. As you open the door, you gasp!

The whole room is covered in candles, and the potent scent of roses fills the whole room with a beautiful fragrance. You would never have guessed Undertaker was such a romantic! You set your clean clothes next to the towel he's left you, and enter the bath.

The moment to step into the bath, you feel your very soul lighten. It was if all your worries dissolved into the water. You inhale deeply, allowing the smell to wash over your entire being.

It takes well over an hour for the bath to turn cold. Reluctantly, you exist the bath and start to change. After you put your underwear on, you encounter a problem; your corset has laces at the back, and you're not quite flexible enough to do them yourself. You call for the Undertaker.

He appears almost immediately. 'Hello, my lovely. Do you need me for something?' His eyes scan you from head to toe, clearly taking in your state of undress. You explain that you need lacing up. He walks up behind you, letting you get the corset into position before he starts lacing it. He moves slowing, fingers brushing against the bare skin of your back. You close your eyes, relaxing into his touch. The corset pinches a bit as he starts to tighten it, and you whimper a bit. He apologises by showering the nape of your neck with gentle kisses. When the corset is sufficiently tightened, he lets his hands roam over your hips, and begins kiss your neck sensually. He slowing moves both his right hand and his lips up, his hand settling over your breast whilst his mouth makes it to your ear.

'You have no idea what it does to me, seeing you like this. It's enough to make me want to cancel what I've planned for us, drag you into the bedroom, and make love to you until you can't walk properly.' He nibbles at your earlobe. 'But alas, I fear it would be a waste to hide you away, so I'm going to leave you to finish getting ready. Meet me in the kitchen when you're done.' And with that, he's gone. 'He really knows how to disappear in a hurry' you think to yourself before dressing and extinguishing the candles.

On your way to kitchen, it occurs to you that he hasn't actually told you what he's planning yet. You're pretty sure he's taking you out somewhere, but you've no idea where that could possibly be. As you approach the kitchen, you see two things; your flowers are on a plain glass vase on the table, and Undertaker placing sandwiches into a wicker basket. A picnic?! You haven't been on one since you were small!

'Are we heading out for a picnic?!' You ask Undertaker, unable to hold back your excitement.

He grins at you. 'That's right, my dear. I'm afraid we'll have to walk to our destination, if you don't mind having me on your arm. I know I'm not exactly dressed like a gentleman, but I hope that doesn't bother you.' You can hear the doubt in his voice, and decide to respond playfully.

'Personally I'd rather you were naked, but I suppose I can cope with you fully-clothed.' You wink, and he giggles at you. You hope you've done enough to set his mind at ease.

You exit the shop arm-in-arm, and allow him to lead you to your destination.

It turns out your destination is none other than Hyde Park, but that's not a huge surprise; there's not many other places for a picnic in central London.

'Here we are. How about we walk around for a bit before our picnic? It's not quite lunchtime yet after all.' He seeks your approval before the two of you set off around the park.

You notice people staring at you as walk, but you pay them no mind as Undertaker tells you all about the flowers growing in the park. Turns out he's very knowledgable on the subject of flowers. When you ask him how he knows so much, he shrugs and says 'Me customers always request specific flowers, I guess I just picked up a few things.' You find it hard to accept that reasoning, as you're pretty sure no one would request shrubbery as part of a funeral bouquet, but you don't question him further. It's not exactly important.

After a good hour walking around, Undertaker picks you out a spot by the river. He produces a blanket from his basket, and gestures for you to sit. You do so as gracefully as you can manage. Once you're seated, he follows suit. 'Help yourself to the picnic, sweetheart. I hope you've had a good day so far.' You assure him that you have, before helping yourself to a sandwich.

As you eat, your eyes wander around, watching the other people in Hyde Park. You see an old man feeding the ducks not too far from you. He looks so sad, like he's missing part of himself. You notice the ring on his left hand, and it becomes clear; he's a widower.

'Mr Aaron Smithy,' Undertaker says, following your eyes 'lost his wife to pneumonia last June. Used to feed the ducks with her once a week. Still does, but now he's all alone.' Undertaker seems distant, almost as if he's imagining the man's pain.

You avert your eyes, not wanting to dwell on another's sadness for too long. Instead you spot a group of children, playing catch with a ratty-looking ball. There's three of them; sibling by the looks of things. A boy of about eleven has the ball at the moment, and another boy who looks about nine is trying to convince him to throw it to him. A girl, who can't be more than three, is toddling after her brother, giggling as she goes. The parents look on fondly from blanket just like yours.

You can't help but wonder what it would be like to have children. You've often thought about it, but only in the context of making your former husband happy, never out of a true desire to have a family. As you watch the children play however, you begin to imagine what it would be like to start a family with the Undertaker. What would your children be like? Would they be just like you, or little clones of their father? Your heart swells at the idea of carrying his children…

Alas, it's only in your mind. You don't even know how he feels about children. He probably hates them, thinking them noisy or demanding. It's not like there's room for more than two in your home anyway. You look back to Undertaker before he can make any comments. He's staring at you, and for a moment you think he's read your mind, but he doesn't say anything. He just strokes your face and smiles.

The sun is setting by the time you leave Hyde Park, returning home arm-in-arm. You let out a loud yawn as you walk in, feeling a little tired from all the walking. Undertaker notices.

'Why don't you head on to bed, love? I'll put everything away.' Instead of taking his advice, you wrap your arms around his neck and put your mouth to his ear.

'I'd say thank you for today, but I'm willing to bet it would be better to show you just how much I appreciate your romantic efforts.' You nibble on his earlobe, and he seems to understand what you're suggesting.

'In which case, I rescind my earlier statement. Why don't you head to the bedroom and strip down to your corset and smalls? I'll join you as soon as I can.' You take that as your cue to slip away as quickly as he does, practically sprinting to the bedroom. Removing your shoes and dress, you sit on the bed, waiting for Undertaker's arrival. You don't have to wait long; knowing there's something sweet waiting for him must have motivated him.

You notice a collection of candles in his hand, presumably from the bathroom. He places them around the room, lighting them as he goes. You look at him, a little confused.

'I haven't really had the chance to look at you properly yet. Not while we've made love at least. So tonight I'm going to make sure every inch of you is bathed in light whilst I worship your body.

He approaches you, and you begin to melt into his embrace.

Little do the two of you know, you aren't the only ones present.


	9. On The Outside Looking In

Sebastian stalks quietly through London. His master sent him to retrieve something from Lau, a task that had taken him far longer than anticipated; it was evening time now, and his young master would soon be wishing to retire to bed.

Thankfully, his master has seen fit to give him the evening off, asking Tanaka to step in for him. When questioned, he simply said 'There's clearly something bothering you. Fix it. You're no use to me distracted.'

His young master was quite right of course; he is distracted. He has an itch, a craving you might say, and there's only one thing that can sate him.

He is going to seek out his little whore.

Sebastian can scarcely believe that it has been six months since he last had her. Tonight, he is going to rectify that six times over.

After their verbal sparring a few days ago, Sebastian has no doubt in his mind that Undertaker has seen that woman for what she is; a common harlot, fit only to be used and discarded. Despite what he may have said, Sebastian knew the Undertaker has no use for such a woman; if the rumours he's heard are true, Undertaker is attractive enough to bed any woman he pleases. With all that taken into account, Sebastian decides the best place to start looking is the alleyway she frequented the last time he had his way with her; whores were usually creatures of habit, it only makes sense that she should return to her previous dwellings.

When he gets there, he finds that he is mistaken; she's not there. Odd. Perhaps she has gone to ply her trade elsewhere. Sebastian is about to start checking the local brothels when he hears a sound; a woman laughing. Normally he'd ignore it, but it sounded suspiciously like…

Unable to ignore his piqued curiosity, he searches for the source of the laughter, making sure to remain unseen. What he sees when he locates the sound's origin makes his blood boil.

Undertaker and his whore, walking arm-in-arm like lovers.

Trying his upmost to calm himself, he tries to think of other reasons they might be so close. Maybe Undertaker simply desired to be seen with a beautiful woman? Further investigation is warranted before he can draw a solid conclusion.

He follows them back to the Undertaker's shop. He approaches the door quietly, listening to their conversation. What he hears fills him with both fury and desire; she's offering him sex as a thank you. Ah, so that's what this is all about. He's treating her kindly so she'll grant him sexual favours. Clever, Sebastian never would have considered such a tactic. Perhaps when she realises what he's up to, she'll come crawling back to him, begging for his cock…

Sebastian sees them walk off deeper into the shop, presumably to the bedroom. This leaves him with two options; walk away and find other amusements or stay here and watch another man take what is rightfully his. Normally, he would just walk away, cutting his losses and taking his frustration out on another unsuspecting woman. However, given his burning desire for one woman in particular, he decides to sneak into the building and watch them. After all, how is he supposed to steal her back if he doesn't know what he has to compete with?

Sebastian manages to sneak in via the bathroom. He's almost discovered, not expecting Undertaker to be collecting candles from there, but thankfully the man is too distracted by the thought of sex to notice him. He makes his way down the hall in complete silence, noticing a room with light pouring out of the crack underneath the door. Sebastian surmises that this is the bedroom, and kneels down so he can see through the peephole.

The whole room is covered in the candles Undertaker took from the bathroom. Sebastian grimaces; that many candles constitutes a fire hazard, not a romance gesture. One candle is enough in Sebastian's experience. It generates plenty of wax to drip on his poor, unsuspecting prey; the cry of pain and pleasure they give out when he does that is exquisite.

Sebastian realises that he's been a fool, focusing on the candles when he should be focusing on her. Soft breasts poking out of her tight corset, plump derrière on display, the slightest hint of a blush on her cheeks; if he was the one in the room with her, he'd ruin her. Force his way inside of her time and time again, until she faints with exhaustion. Then in her unconscious state, chain her to the bed so she can never leave, so that she's his forever. His thoughts are making him hard, but he can't start pleasuring himself yet; the show has yet to begin.

The Undertaker wraps his arms around the woman, embracing her gently. Fool, a woman like that should be manhandled, left sore and bruised with each embrace. He starts to whisper in her ear, and Sebastian is glad that his hearing is far above that of a human. 'Would you be up for playing a little game tonight? If it's too soon I'll understand, I just want to make you feel good is all.' Sebastian sees her shiver, clearly aroused by Undertaker's words.

'Well, you did spend the whole day pampering me. I'm more than willing to let you play with me, so long as I can leave the game if it stops being fun.' Consent given, Undertaker throws her into the middle the bed, where she proceeds to kneel and look at him expectantly. Sebastian is pleasantly surprised, both by Undertaker's apparent kinky streak and by the woman's willingness to submit to him so easily. Sebastian only wishes he held that kind of power over her.

Undertaker reaches under the bed, and takes out a long strip of cloth. Sebastian feels quite disappointed; he was hoping Undertaker would at least have some rope or a paddle under there to use.

Undertaker shows the woman the cloth. 'This is for your eyes, sweetheart. Cutting off your vision should heighten certain sensations. It'll also mean you'll have no idea what I'm planning, so in order for this to be enjoyable, you'll have to trust me. Can you do that for me, love?' There must be some reason he's asking her that. Does she not trust him? The fact that she's willing to submit to him at all suggests some degree of trust. Maybe she sees through his false promises of love and kindness, and he's trying to reinforce that façade? Sebastian makes a mental note to remember that; it could play an instrumental part in stealing her back.

The woman guides Undertaker's hands to her face, closing her eyes as she does. 'I trust you more than anyone. Do what you will with me, but if I say stop, please listen to me.' Undertaker puts the cloth over her eyes. He waves his hand in front of her face, making sure she can't see. When she doesn't respond to the motion, he takes it as confirmation that she can't see.

Undertaker steps away from the woman to remove his clothes. He reaches out for him, but can feel nothing. Sebastian can smell her underlying fear in the air, and that's a good enough reason for him to reach into his trousers and start grasping his cock.

Now fully naked, Undertaker sneaks around to the other side of the bed, directly behind the woman. He reaches under the bed, and Sebastian sees a flash of silver; he has a knife. Sebastian watches carefully, becoming even more turned on than he already is. He knows that Undertaker could slit the pretty throat in front of him right now and she'd have no way to stop him. The sight of such a beautiful woman in such a vulnerable position makes Sebastian's hand move if it's own volition. It feels wrong, fucking his own hand when there's a perfectly good hole mere metres in front of him, but alas, it will have to suffice.

Instead of slitting her throat like he could have done, Undertaker instead used the knife to cut through all the laces on the corset in front of him. The wearer of the corset lets out a shriek, as it falls away from her seemingly by itself. Before she can turn around, Undertaker grabs both of her arms and holds them in one hand behind her back. He brings the knife up to her throat. She freezes in place, and for a moment Sebastian swears she's going to tell him to stop. No such word leaves her lips though, as Undertaker presses his mouth to her ear.

'Excuse the knife, love, but there was no way I was undoing that bloody corset properly. As appetising as it made you look, I really lack the patience for such things. Now that I have the knife however, I'd like to use it to illustrate just how much you can trust me. Will you let me do that?' He licks the shell of her ear, and for the first time in his life Sebastian is concerned he'll finish long before the show is done. Slowing his hand, he waits with anticipation for the next part of the show, assuming she agrees to it.

The woman takes in a steady breath. 'I already said you could do as you wished. I know you won't hurt me; we have six months of sex to catch up on. I know you wouldn't want to cut the fun short.' She's made it into a joke, but that doesn't stop her trembling. Her fear is delicious. In many ways, Sebastian feels like this show is being put on just for him. His own private viewing of human depravity. This is shaping up to be a fantastic night.

Undertaker slowly ghosts the knife down her neck, careful to angle the blade away from her skin. He lets the flat side of it press into a nipple, the coldness causing her to hiss. 'So response, and all mine. I am fortunate indeed to have my love reciprocated by you. I'm going to release your arms now, but I want to you to keep them where they are. Can you do that for me, love?' The woman nods, and Undertaker's other hand releases her, before immediately grabbing onto her free nipple. She lets out a moan, and Undertaker continues toying with her. Sebastian can smell her arousal in the air, and it's driving him insane.

Undertaker keeps his empty hand toying with her breast, but starts to move the knife over her stomach. 'I saw you watching those children earlier. Such sweet little things, so full of laughter. It's enough to make me want to make a whole army of little Undertakers. I bet you'd look even sexier with child…' His words have her teetering on the edge, and Sebastian is willing to bet his young master's soul that any kind of stimulation inside of her underthings would have her screaming Undertaker's name. Sebastian can't help but feel envious of Undertaker; not only is he currently preparing to rut with HIS whore, but he also seems to have skills in the bedroom that are at the very least equal to Sebastian's own. It was frustrating!

The knife finally meets her panties, and tears through them effortlessly, effectively reducing them to a scrap of wet fabric. The hand on her breast goes down to her thigh, and pulls it away from its twin, spreading her bent legs as far as they'll go. His empty hand starts to play with her clit, and she thrashes about wildly. He returns the knife to her throat. 'Stop trying to escape, my lovely. Stay still and embrace the pleasure. Let it wash over you. Let it break you down so that you can be rebuilt anew. Go into to abyss knowing that I love you, and let that be enough to bring you back to me.' Sebastian retracts his earlier thought; Undertaker's skill in the bedroom was far better than his own. Even Sebastian is affected by his words, rapidly nearing completion.

A feminine scream of rapture is all it takes to have Sebastian spilling into his own hand, having to use all of his willpower to keep from making a sound. He closes his eyes briefly, before opening them in shock; Undertaker has thrown the knife at the door, missing the top of Sebastian's head by centimetres. Taking a silent breath to calm himself, Sebastian braves another look through the keyhole. and the sight that greets him when he opens them is one he'll never forget…

Undertaker, apparently content with the level of pleasure he's given his partner, is now focusing on his own release, pushing the woman forwards and entering her from behind. His pace is fast enough to make the bed shake, all the while causing his bedmate release a series of moans so sinful it's enough to make a demon like Sebastian blush. It's not long before she's climaxing again, Undertaker following her over the edge shortly afterwards. Sebastian backs away from the door, deciding that he's seen more than enough for one night.

He leaves the same way he entered, and as he begins the long walk back to the Phantomhive manor, he begins to evaluate his current situation; the woman he had specifically designated as his favourite whore was now in the arms of another man. Unable to get his fix of her, he had settled for watching her being taken by said other man before spilling in his trousers like an adolescent seeing a pair of breasts for the first time. This had not been his plan at all.

He silently curses his brat of a master for not giving him the chance to seek her out sooner. Had he only known where she was, he could have stolen her away for himself! It would have been so simple, luring her away from him. What could the Undertaker offer her that he couldn't? He's no one, he has no money or social standing. He's doesn't even have a name! Sure, Sebastian's name may have been given to him (and it may originally have been a dog's name) but it was still more than the Undertaker had!

'No matter though,' he thinks to himself, 'tonight has given me all the information I need to steal her away.' He smirks to himself as he disappears into the night.


	10. Revelation

It's been a whole month since your date with Undertaker, and his romantic streak shows no sign of ending. Every morning he wakes you by attacking your neck with kisses, and every night the two of you make love like it's the last time you'll ever get to touch. You've never felt so in love before, and you doubt any other love could compare. It's enough to make you feel super-human.

Unfortunately, feeling super human doesn't make you that way, and doesn't grant you immunity from sickness; the rather sizeable amount of vomit in the toilet at the moment is proof of that. You're currently kneeling on the bathroom floor facing the toilet, with Undertaker rubbing your back in small, comforting circles.

'You shouldn't have to see me like this.' You say in-between bouts of sickness. You'd thought those eggs you'd had for breakfast didn't taste right, despite Undertaker claims that they were 'perfectly fine'. Oh yeah, they were fine alright… fine for clearing your insides of their contents.

'Nonsense, I can't leave you alone like this. I've seen much worse that vomit in my time, dear. Just let it all out.' You take his advice literally, retching violently as you vomit up the last of your stomach's contents. 'That's it, sweetheart. Well done. I think that should be it for now.' His words bring you little comfort. You've been crying ever since you started throwing up, your emotions and your gag reflex apparently working in unison to make you look like a gibbering wreck.

You try to stand, but your legs are shaky; Undertaker has to help you. 'Right my dear, it's bedrest for you now. Come on.' You protest, reminding him that he has errands he needs to run. 'Your health is far more important, my love. Now stop complaining and let me take care of you.' You follow him as far as the bedroom, before regaining enough strength to stand your ground.

'Look, you need to get more thread, otherwise how will you make those guests of yours beautiful again?' You cringe a little internally, but hope that using his term for the corpses he tends to will make him listen. 'Not only that, but we're running very low on food, and I think not eating properly will make me even worse. That, and we've clients coming later on that'll require both of us to assist them.' He looks a little defeated, realising the truth in your words.

'So pragmatic, even when you're ill. Okay then, how's this; I'll go and run those errands while you mind the shop. There's two conditions though; you'll drink plenty of water, and if it gets too much you'll shut up shop until I get back. Does that sound fair?' You nod, and he seems satisfied. 'You go find a seat in the shop, and I'll bring you some water.'

You wander meekly down the hall, and drag a chair from the corner of the room into the middle; you have to be prepared to greet the customers, after all.

Undertaker enters with a glass of water for you and a basket for his shopping. He sets the water down on his desk and looks at you, a serious expression in his eyes. 'I don't like leaving you like this. Not when you're so vulnerable.' He looks more concerned than you've ever seen him.

You reach out and gently caress his face. 'I'll be fine, there's nothing left in me to throw up. You go out and do what you have to, but hurry back; you're much better at asking customers what they want than I am.' He kisses you on the head and scurries out the door, leaving you alone in the shop.

About an hour after he leaves, you feel well enough to potter around the shop a little. You go around examining the coffins, making sure that they're all clean and ready to be purchased should a customer desire one. To your annoyance, the top of one of them is covered in dust! 'This won't do!' You think to yourself, and you go to retrieve a cloth from the bottom draw of Undertaker's desk (because where else would they be?).

As you crouch down to retrieve one, you hear the door open. 'Be with you in a moment!' You call out from behind the desk. Finding a cloth, you stand, expecting to see the young couple that are booked in for today. Instead, your whole being fills with dread, as you see who's actually just entered the shop.

Standing in the doorway is none other than Sebastian the Butler. Alone.

You begin to panic, concerned as to what he'll do to you when he realises you're all on your own. You say the first thing that pops into your head. 'Undertaker is in the toilet, he won't be much longer. I take it you're after some information for your master?' You try to sound confident, but your voice falters a little; Sebastian notices.

'My, my. Lying to customers the moment they walk in. Is this really how the Undertaker has trained you be behave? Or are a naughty little puppy, how hasn't been properly house-broken yet? Such a shame, some people just don't know how to train a bitch properly. I'd be happy to give him lessons, but I fear he wouldn't like what I have to say.' He approaches you, and you stay behind the desk, trying to use it as a giant shield. He walks right up to it, and stands opposite you, staring intently.

'Then again, given that the Undertaker himself is a gifted liar, perhaps he has taught you a little something.' He begins to walk around the desk, and you walk backwards, ending up against the wall. He glides in front of you and slams his hands on the wall on either side of your head, trapping you.

'I saw the two of you together a few weeks ago, watched how he showered you with uncaring kisses and false declarations of love. You don't truly believe that he loves you, do you? Poor naïve little thing, he's got you right where he wants you. Do you what to know what you really are to him, my dear? I'll give you a hint; it's the same thing you are to me.' He rubs his knee between your legs, and his message becomes clear; he's saying that the Undertaker is using you for sex.

Your realisation shows on your face. 'Yes, now you understand. It's a pity really, that you've chosen to give yourself to him rather than to me; what can he give you, hm? A few common-looking dresses and a disheveled old shop? If you give yourself to me, I can give you silks and diamonds, and you'll never want for anything ever again. Naturally, my tastes are a little darker than his, and you will be required to submit to my will at all times, but at least I'll be honest with you. Come now, leave this place with me, and bit farewell to your life of poverty.'

There's a part of you that believes him, but you're quick to silence it. After everything he's done for you, you refuse to even entertain the idea that the Undertaker is using you. If sex is all he wants, he could have taken you the moment you offered yourself to him. He didn't though. Instead, he gave you everything you needed to be comfortable, even sacrificing his own bed for you. He's done nothing but good things for you, and he's bought you more happiness than you ever thought possible. How could this man, who's bought you nothing but pain, assume that a few words will cause you to leave the loving home you've been given? Clearly, he is a fool.

'Get out. I swear to god if you even look at me again, I will find a way to make you suffer. You truly are a demon amongst men, and I've no desire to associate with you any further.' You shove him away from you, and he bumps into the desk, causing the glass of water to fall off and shatter, just like any remaining hold Sebastian has on you.

He looks startled, but quickly regains his composure again as he stands tall, making his way out of the shop with an irradiated flick of his tailcoat. Before he leaves, he turns to look at you one final time.

'You're quite right about one thing; I truly am a 'demon amongst men'. Don't be so quick to judge though, sweet thing; after all, you're the one who's fallen in love with death personified.' He leaves, and you think about his parting words. Surely 'death personified' was just a reference to Undertaker's profession, and many people refer to themselves as demons. That explanation leaves you feeling unsatisfied however; it just doesn't fit, especially the part about Undertaker being 'death personified'. He doesn't look like any depiction of death you've ever seen. If death looks like him people would willing go into the void!

You stop pondering when you hear the door open again. This time it's Undertaker, and that makes your heart feel lighter. His basket is full to the brim with food, yet his face bears a concerned expression.

'How are you feeling, my love? Did you remember to drink your water?' Your blood runs cold. Do you dare tell him what happened? You've seen the way he looks at Sebastian. If he knew he'd tried to take you away…

No. You aren't about to lie to him. He means too much to you. 'I had a visitor when you were out. Sebastian.' The Undertaker suddenly looks very pale. You continue talking. 'He didn't hurt me, not exactly. He basically said I was a whore, and that you didn't love me and were just using me. He… he had me trapped between him and the wall, and he told me if I went with him he'd give me things you couldn't. Stupid material things that mean nothing to me. I pushed him away, and knocked him into the desk, which caused my water to fall onto the floor. So no, I didn't get the chance to drink it. I'm sorry I broke our agreement.' You look at the floor, not wanting to look at him.

You hear him drop his basket, before feeling his arms wrap around you, pulling you into an embrace. 'If I'd known that demon was going to show up I never would have left you. I'm sorry for letting you face him alone.' You don't find Undertaker's words as comforting as you should. Did he just say demon? The doubts from mere moments ago rear their ugly head again, and you find yourself asking an unbelievable question; could he be an actual demon? It may seem far- fetched, but it would explain his unusual eye colour and vicious actions. If that's the case though, does that mean Undertaker isn't human either? Sebastian hinted at as much earlier. If he's not, then what is he?

You have to know the truth.

You move away from his embrace. 'Undertaker, I need to ask you a question.'

He frowns slightly. 'That sounds ominous. Ask away.'

You take a deep breath. 'Undertaker, wha…' your sentence is cut short by the arrival of a young couple; the clients you've both been expecting. Undertaker turns to greet the new arrivals.

'Ah, you must be Mrs. Winter's relatives. Any idea about what coffin you'd like?' Knowing that now isn't the time to question him, you move to take his basket from the floor to the kitchen, forgetting just how fragile you're currently feeling. You find it very hard to pick up. Undertaker notices your struggling. 'Let me do that, love. You talk to our guests for now. Back in a moment.' He picks up the goods effortlessly and leaves to put them away.

Your business with your clients takes up most of the remainder of the day; they're very particular. At one point the gentleman assumes that you're Undertaker's wife, and he doesn't correct him, just squeezes your waist and says he's a lucky man indeed.

You don't eat much for dinner, not wanting to risk vomiting again. Bread and butter is about all you can manage, but it's more than enough.

When dinner is concluded, you both head to the bedroom as usual, only this time something is different; usually the only thing in the air is desire when the two of you are alone like this. Now there's nothing but tension, the unasked question from earlier weighing heaving in the air. Undertaker sits on the bed and asks you to join. Once you're seated, he begins.

'I believe you had a question for me earlier, love, but I'd like to ask you one first if I may?' You nod. 'Good. In that case, how would you feel if I told you that humans weren't alone? That there were other things in this world, dark things that live in the shadows, watching humans as they go about their daily lives?' He studies you carefully as you think of a response.

'Honestly? I'm not sure. At least, I wasn't sure. Until I met Sebastian. I've heard the way to talk about him. You call him things like 'noxious beast' and 'demon', and I know they may seem like throw away terms or insults, I can't help but feel that they're something more literal. With that said, I'd like you to answer my question now; what are you really?'

Undertaker stands, and you're afraid he's going to walk away. Instead, he reaches under the bed and pulls out two objects; a small wooden box with an ornate design and…

A scythe?!

Suddenly, Sebastian's comment makes more sense.

You must look alarmed, because Undertaker props the scythe up against the wall as far away from you as possible. He keeps the box in his hand as he starts talking. 'Do you remember me talking once about the greatest mistake? I was human once, but then I foolishly gave up on my life. I was reborn as a Grim Reaper, a harvester of human souls. It's a terrible burden. I have seen the lives of so many people play out right before my eyes, and in those lives I see the things I'll never have. A loving wife, children, a house with a garden… those are all things I sacrificed, and I am tormented by that sacrifice every day. Or I was. Then I met you.

'I remember the first time I saw you, lying in that filthy alleyway. I remember finding it so unfair that someone as beautiful as you was in such a state. Then I recognised who you were, and realised that I was most likely a factor in your misfortune. I'll confess that I knew you were still alive; I deal with the dead, after all. But you looked dead enough that I though I could get away with telling you that. I'm sorry for only just telling you the truth.

'I told myself that all I'd do was help you get back on your feet, but it didn't quite work out like that. Over time, I fell in love with you. I don't quite know how it happened, but it did. For the first time in centuries, I'm in love with someone, and I find myself thinking that maybe I'll be able to have some kind of happiness after all. Maybe not exactly what I saw in the memories of all those countless souls, but the closest thing possible. I only hope my keeping this from you hasn't ruined my chance at happiness.' He hands you the box in his hands, and gestures for you to open it.

The box is full of money.

'I'm going to give you a choice now. In that box is enough money to buy yourself a small flat and some furnishings. I can also put you in contact with someone who can find you a job. You'll be well-paid, and never have to worry about money ever again. You can do that right now, and I'll make no move to stop you. I'm not human, after all; I'm more than used to people turning their back on me when they realise what I am.

'Alternatively, you can put that money back under the bed and forget what you know about me. We can go back to the way we've been for the last month; happy. Oh, and in case you're wondering how I have this much money squirrelled away, let's just say that I've been saving it for a very long time.' He smiles sadly.

You find yourself with a huge decision to make; do you cut your losses and run away, unable to live with the fact you've loved a lie? Or do you forget what he truly is in favour of continuing to love that lie?

Hands trembling, you close your eyes; you've made your choice.


	11. Acceptance

'I choose neither.'

Your words hang in the air, Undertaker silently trying to decipher their meaning. You hand him the box, and decide to elaborate.

''Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth.' That's what someone told me a long time ago. I was only a child, so I didn't understand what that meant at the time. I do now. Love is all about truth and acceptance, not lies and ignorance. I love you too much to leave, but I cannot stay if you're asking me to ignore the truth about you. I'm willing to accept what you are, if you're willing to give me a chance to.' You start to cry, and a few tears spill from his eyes too.

'No one has ever truly accepted me. I wasn't even fully accepted as a human. Why are you so willing to stay with me now that you know what I am?' He looks helpless, and you hate it. For the first time since you've been together, you feel like it's you who has to protect him. The role reversal has you worried; you don't want to say the wrong things.

You place both hands on his face and look him straight in the eyes. 'I love you. That's all there is to it. You took me from a life destined to end in tragedy, and gave me hope for a future. You fed me, clothed me, made me feel loved and yet asked for next to nothing in return. The morning after we first made love you told me you'd give me all the love you have. You've given me so much of yourself, why are you so unwilling to believe that I want to give of myself too?' You want to kiss him, feel like you should, but you wait, allowing him to make the first move.

'No man with my past deserves love. At least that's what I've always been told. Love is something reserved only for those who do no wrong, and I've done a great deal of wrong in my lifetime.

'Yet here you are, the most wonderful woman I've ever known, asking me to believe in her love for me. It contradicts everything I've ever been lead to believe, but the look in your eyes tells me that it is the truth. By some miracle, you've come to accept me like no one else has. You're willing to stay here with me, even knowing full well that I'm not human. I'll never be able to tell you what that means to me. Just know that if things were different, and if I was human, we'd be wed by now, and we'd be using this money to buy things for the family we were planning to start.' The tears in his eyes seem to dry up, as if he's gotten everything out of his system. You still have one thing to get out of yours though.

'You keep saying that we can't get married, and that we can't start a family, but why? Why can't we have those things? Marriage is a promise, made between two people, to stay with each other forever. We can still make that promise, even if it's not 'legally binding.' I can't promise that we'll be able to start a family; I'm not even certain if we're compatible. But even if we can't, then I'm more than happy with a family of two.' You do kiss him this time, and feel yourself sigh with relief when he returns the kiss.

'You really are remarkable, me dear. Now, if you're willing to forgive all of the drama I've caused, I think we should both get ready for bed.' He gets off of the bed to put the box and his scythe back in their hiding place. You watch him, mind travelling back to the evening of your date. The two of you haven't really talked about what he did to you that night, and the sex since then has gone back to being rather… vanilla. Not that you hated vanilla, it's just that part of you was hoping you'd make it a regular thing. Deciding that now was as good a night as any to be bold, you ask him a question.

'Do you still have that fabric from our date night under there?' You try to ask him in the most sultry way possible, and it seems to work; he pauses, about to stand and undress. He looks at you hopefully.

'Of course I do my love. Are you after a repeat performance? Maybe not tonight, I know you're probably still feeling a little poorly…' His mouth might be considerate, but the fabric tent in the front of his robes shoes his body isn't quite so thoughtful.

You slide your dress down your body, leaving you clad only in your underwear. 'I've long stopped feeling sick; now I'm feeling hungry.' You throw yourself into the bed, hoping he realises you're not hungry for food.

'Well in that case, what can I do to satisfy your appetite?' You think carefully, allowing your mind to create an idea you think he'll enjoy.

'Bind my arms behind my back, and gag me so I can't protest. Then do with me what you will.' Undertaker's face blushes furiously; he wasn't expecting that! He's about to respond when you say 'I want to feel completely at your mercy, because I want to prove to you that you're deserving of my love. Up until this point, you've always given me the option of backing out, but I never have. You've never given me any reason to want to back out. So tonight, I want you to take away that option, because I know that no matter what you do, you won't hurt me.' He still looks reluctant, but reaches under the bed, pulling out the fabric from before and a length of rope. He looks you straight in the eyes.

'If you give me any reason to believe you're uncomfortable, we stop. If that's agreeable to you, roll over and put your arms behind your back.' You do as he instructs, and feel him bind your hands together with the rope. It chafes slightly at your skin, but you find that oddly pleasant. He speaks again. 'Wriggle your way up to the pillows and turn yourself back over.' You comply to the best of your ability, struggling to get enough purchase on the bed to get very far. You eventually complete the task, and turn to face him as instructed.

You're surprised to see him fully-clothed; usually he's stripped off by now. Interesting. 'I'm going to gag you now. Nod if it feels comfortable. If it doesn't, or you can't breathe, I'll take it off. Understand?' You nod, and he ties the fabric in place over your mouth.

It feels weird at first, having something blocking your mouth like that, but you quickly get used to it. You let out a few experimental phrases, and feel delighted when it comes out as a series of muffled sounds. You give him the sign that he's clear to proceed, and he does just that.

'You look so helpless, it's almost adorable. Completely at my mercy… it's been a long time since anyone has been in that position. I wonder what I should do to you…' He runs one of his fingers from your chin all the way down to your underwear, leaving a faint scratch mark that divides your torso in two. 'You seemed to like the knife last time… does the thought of being in danger excite you? You are interesting.' He leans down and bites at one of your nipples, earning him a muffled squeak. 'Such lovely little noises you make. It's almost a shame I've trapped them behind cloth.'

He caresses your face gently, and it occurs to you he has nothing planned; he wasn't expecting you to offer this, after all. He seems to have come up with an idea now though, as a wicked grin spreads over his face. 'Now that I have you as a captive audience, I'm going to tell you a few things about the grim reapers.' This surprises you; he can do literally anything he wants to you, yet all he plans to do is talk to you? You groan in protest, but he quickly adds 'oh don't worry, I'm not going to waste the opportunity you've given to me.' He kisses on your neck, gently at first, before sucking down on it hard enough to leave a mark. You can only moan, the feeling of helplessness heightening the sensation. He pulls back.

'A little something to discourage any further action from our resident pest. Now, on with the show.' He climbs on top of you, making sure his erection is in the perfect place to rub against your clit. He places a hand on one of your breasts and starts toying with your nipple, as he starts telling you his stories.

'One thing to note is that all reapers are horribly near-sighted. That's why I'm so tactile with you; my eyes only see so much, so I let my hands fill in the blacks.' He tweaks your nipple hard, and your body spasms. 'I'll never get tired of watching your body respond to me.' He says reverently, before placing his other hand on your other breast. He's having to put pressure on you in order to keep his balance, but if anything it makes it more enjoyable.

'Another thing to mention is that reapers work incredibly hard, not that we're given much choice. Soul collection is a very hands-on thing, but there's also a considerable amount of paperwork to fill in afterwards, especially if something goes wrong.' Between him rubbing himself against you, and toying with your breasts, you find yourself ready to climax. Before you get a chance, he jumps off of the bed, leaving you bereft of any contact.

He removes all of his clothing, and reaches for something under the bed; it's the knife again.

You expect him to cut through your underwear, like he did last time, but instead he slides them off and flings them across the room. He enters you as soon as you're bare for him, but doesn't start thrusting. Instead he leans forward, knife in hand, and starts talking to you again.

'The final and most important thing you must learn is that there are hardly any female reapers, and the ones that do join our ranks are quickly snapped up by high-ranking reapers who can offer them the most comfortable existence. As you can imagine, this presents a huge problem for reapers who feel a certain…' he pulls out before thrusting in again. 'Problem, for those of us who prefer the fairer…' he repeats his earlier motion 'sex. However, there an easy way to get a fix… by entering the human world.'

Every single sentence is punctuated with a thrust as Undertaker continues his story. 'Picture this: a young reaper, only been on the job a few decades, gets given the task of collecting the soul of a young man. It's his wedding night, and the young man is sleeping soundly next to his new wife, completely sated. Our reaper friend goes in, collects the soul quickly and quietly, and is just about to leave when he hears the young widow make a noise. He thinks to himself 'I bet if I snuck into the bed, she'd think I was her husband'. So he tries it, stripping off and getting into bed between her and the recently deceased husband. When he starts getting frisky, she assumes it's her new husband, and is more than willing to let him do as he pleases without looking to confirm his identity.

'The next morning, the reaper is long gone, and the woman assumes her husband died shortly after sex. It's a devious little trick, but many a reaper has tried it.' You listen to his story, rather repulsed by it, and you can't help but wonder if he's ever done it. He notices you thinking.

'I've never felt the need to do such a thing. As I've told you before, I don't view women as objects. I'd much rather have a partner who knows full-well who's doing what to her, and who's asked for it. Just like you asked me to take you like this.' He speeds up his thrusts, but continues talking.

'You're the kind of woman I've always desired. So sweet, so joyful, so beautiful. The grim reaper higher ups have always thought that rutting with humans is an abomination, but this proves them all. I'd love to take you to the great library in the reaper realm, and take you on every surface imaginable while they watched, unable to tear their eyes away from us. In fact, I could take us there right now, and you wouldn't be able to stop me.' His words are turning you on more than you care to admit. If the same words were coming from the mouth of anyone else you'd be horrified, but hearing them spoken by Undertaker is doing nothing but turning you on.

You orgasm violently, your whole body shaking with the force of it. Undertaker keeps on thrusting until you're finished. When you are, he brings the knife to your throat.

'Orgasms are delightful, but ultimately distracting. I bet you forgot I was even holding this, didn't you? Or was it your total trust in me that caused you to forget? Either way, I must say having you at my mercy does turn me on, and I'd like to do it more often if we can.' He tosses the knife on the floor, and exits you, before flipping you over and pushing into you again.

You didn't think it was possible, but this position makes you feel even more vulnerable, now that you can't see him. He leans over your body to talk to you.

'You've been so accepting tonight, and for that I thank you. You've accepted my past and my body like no one else ever has. You're a truly special woman indeed, and I'm blessed to have you reciprocate my feelings towards you.

'I want this to be the last time we keep secrets from each other. After tonight, you and I are unofficially wed. In the eyes of everyone that matters, you and I are man and wife. We'll go forth from this night not as two, but as one. I love you more than I have ever loved anyone, and I swear to keep my promise of making you happy. No matter what happens, you and I are going to be with each other, until the day when death itself tears us apart. I'm going to take your gag off now, and I want you answer me this; is what I've just described what you want?' He takes the gag off, and you practically scream your reply.

'YES! I've never wanted anything more in my life! I'm yours, I have been from the moment you first agreed to let me stay!' Your words are true, spoken from the depths of your heart. Letting them out, combined with Undertaker's increase in pace, are enough to make you finish yet again, delighting in the feeling of Undertaker finishing moments later. As he fills you up, you imagine what the future will have in store for you. You know life with him isn't going to be easy, but you know in your heart that this is meant to be.

He eventually finishes, and unties you, scooping you into his arms and tucking you both under the blankets.

'Was that too much, my love?' He gives your wrists tiny kisses, almost like he's apologising to them.

'Not at all, husband.' You say teasingly, and his face splits into a grin.

'Now that's something I could get used to hearing. I should probably apologise for my story earlier though, I didn't exactly paint the reapers in a good light.' He fiddles with some of his hair.

'After that performance, you've nothing to be sorry for, but I can't help but wonder; is it really as common as you said?' You sound worried, and he notices, just as he always does.

'It was popular a few centuries ago, when the reapers were a lot busier than they are now. They didn't have time to go out chasing women, so a lot of reapers took any opportunity that presented itself to them. Then again, many humans did the same, so it feels unfair just to blame the reapers. Anyway, the council put a stop to it at the beginning of George the Third's reign, and to my knowledge no one has done it since.' You yawn, feeling a little rude but unable to help yourself. 'Oh dear, I've tired you out. Now it really is time to get some rest. We'll have a busy day, hopefully we'll have plenty of customers we can introduce ourselves to as 'Man and Wife'. We don't have to let them know it's not legal.' He giggles, and you snuggle into him, too exhausted to reply.

As you drift off to sleep, you're filled with hopes for the future, unaware that certain wheels have been set in motion long before this point, and are preparing to send your life spiralling in an unforeseen direction.


	12. Secret Hopes

Undertaker wakes up to find a familiar warmth snugged into his side. Ah, yes. His new 'wife', wanting to be close to him even in slumber. He wonders how he got so lucky, finding a woman like her. One who's kind, understanding, and oh so beautiful.

The light of the early morning sun illuminates the parts of her not underneath the covers. She looks heaven-sent, and he's not entirely sure that she isn't. She looks so peaceful, like she hasn't a care in the world. This makes Undertaker smile; she shouldn't have any worries, not with him to protect her from them.

He can't resist bringing a hand up to caress her face, especially as it's become his favourite way of showing affection towards her. She makes a little noise in her sleep that makes his heart skip a beat, and shifts away from him so that she's lying on her back.

Undertaker is torn between two desires; the desire to watch her sleep, and the desire to wake her up in a very inappropriate fashion indeed. Then again, after last night, he's pretty certain that nothing can be considered 'inappropriate' anymore.

Moving slowly, he makes he way down the bed, making sure to stay under the duvet as he goes. He gently coaxes her legs apart, and sneaks his head between them, until he's close enough to slide his tongue along her folds. She stirs a little, but he can tell she's not fully awake; he intends to fix that.

He continues to tease her with his tongue, occasionally going so far as to nibble on her clitoris every now and then. When he thinks she's finally starting to wake up, he plunges his tongue inside of her, and begins eating her out in earnest.

He moans into her; she tastes different today. Almost sweeter. He laps up the juices that start to flow greedily, as her wonders what could have caused her sudden change of flavour.

He thinks at first that it might have something to do with the sex they'd had last night; some kind of residual flavour left by his own release. His quickly dismisses the thought; he's tasted himself on her like this before, and it was nothing compared to how she tastes right now.

He considers hormones next, a more reasonable suggestion. From what he's heard, he gathers that women taste slightly different in each stage of their cycle. Maybe this sweetness is signalling her upcoming menses. When was the last time she'd had one?

Undertaker's ministrations falter; in the month or so they've been intimate, they've made love just about every night, yet he's never taken her during the end of her cycle. Does this mean…?

Is she with child?!

She groans, indicating that she wants him to continue. He does, more passionately than he's ever done it before. Could this woman, whom he loves above all others, truly be carrying his child? It seems too perfect, something like that can't be true. Yet he can't help but hope that it is.

He loses himself in thought, fantasising about the new life that may or may not be growing inside of her. The thought that their union might be responsible for the creation of life is enough to make his libido run wild.

He's almost tempted to stop doing what he's doing and take her properly, but he doesn't want to risk over-doing it with her; especially given her potentially delicate condition. He settles for wrapping a hand around his shaft as he imagines being inside of her again, just as he was last night.

A pang of guilt rushes through him; he'd been so forceful, what if he'd hurt them both? He's going to have to be more gentle, if she'll allow him near her when she finds out that is. He'll understand if she doesn't want to do anything physical for the duration of the pregnancy. After all, it'll take all of her energy helping the child to grow.

He's getting ahead of himself, but he can't help it. Now that he's thought it, it won't go away. He regrets that he can't trust himself to be gentle, because he wants to be inside of her more than anything right now. He feels himself getting closer and closer to climax, and he knows she won't be far behind; she's clamping down hard on his tongue.

He can't contain himself any longer, and for the first time in all their time together, he finishes first, dirtying his hand and the bed sheets in the process.

She starts to writhe and moan his name, and before long she's finishing too, her whole body going stiff. He keeps going until she's done, before withdrawing himself and resting his head on her belly. He starts to stroke it gently, praying to a God that he knows won't listen that everything he's imagined is true. He knows he doesn't deserve happiness, and that he should be thankful for what he already has, but he can't help but hope his good luck with hold.

She starts to play with his hair. 'Does this count as our honeymoon?' He giggles a little, still trying to catch his breath. He only hopes she's not figured out what he's thinking; she'd probably think he was some kind of pervert, getting himself off to the thought of her being pregnant.

He gets up slowly. 'I guess it does. Did you like that? I'm more than willing to wake you up for that every morning if you want me to.' He winks, and it's her turn to giggle. They stare at each other for what feels like forever, until the moment is broken by her roaring stomach. He leaves the bed to pass her some clothes.

'Dear me, I'm not much of a husband, am I? Letting my dear wifey go hungry. I'm surprised you still put up with me.' He says it jovially, but there's a truth in his words that he hopes she'll ignore. She doesn't.

'I don't put up with you. I love you. Now go on and make us breakfast. You've given me quite an appetite.' She slides on her clothes, and he makes his way to the kitchen, her following soon after. As he dishes up their pancakes (he was planning scrabbled eggs, but after her being taken ill yesterday he's decided not to risk it. Unless it wasn't the eggs…) she asks him a question.

'When you were out, did you get me any cloth? I'm due on soon, but I seem to have run out of rags…' he promises to get her some, but he hopes she won't need them.

Then again, when have his hopes ever come to anything?

As he looks at the woman before him, he amends his question:

What were the chances of his hope being realised a second time?


	13. Confrontation

In the few days following your impromptu 'wedding', Undertaker has been like a man possessed, talking every opportunity possible to shower you with affection. Granted, he's been affectionate ever since you first entered into a romantic relationship, but this was almost too much! One client had almost left the shop after catching the two of you exchanging kisses against one of his coffins, apparently appalled by the display. You couldn't bring yourself to be truly upset with his actions though. You have something much bigger to worry about.

You're now over a week late, and you're starting to think you might be pregnant.

Your lateness hadn't worried you at first; you've been late plenty of times in the past, why should it concern you now? Of course, all those times were at a point in your life when you weren't making love most nights (and some morning too, if Undertaker's feeling particularly amorous). You've also never taken step to prevent pregnancy, as the though has never really crosses your mind…

Until now.

Now it is very much at the forefront of your mind.

Your biggest concern is how Undertaker will react if you are carrying his child. Will he be pleased? Shocked? A combination of both? Or will he be angry, this news coming far too soon in your blossoming relationship? You've not even known each other a full year after all, and you've only spent a fraction of that time as a couple. Would he see the baby as an inconvenience? Something sent to block him for pursuing his desire for you?

There's a part of your mind that violently protests that last part; you mean more to him than just sex, so why would he be mad if he couldn't have you for a while? He managed to be in your vicinity for six months without laying a hand on you, so why would he begrudge nine, especially if it's for a good reason? Besides all that, hasn't he expressed his desire for a family more than once? This could be everything he's ever hoped for come true!

There was only one real problem; uncertainty. It would be cruel to get his hopes up, especially when there's still a chance it could just be a late menses this month. All you can do is wait and see, and just hope he'll be happy with the outcome.

-t/s-

It's a little before noon, and you're helping the Undertaker clean the shop. It's been a good few months since it's had a deep clean, and today is the perfect day to do so, given that there are no clients due in today.

You walk over to one of the large coffins against the wall, intending to move it. Undertaker stops you.

'Let me get that for you, love.' He effortlessly picks it up, moving it in front of another coffin so you can clean behind it. Instead of cleaning it however, you put both hands on your hips and pout.

'Just because I'm a woman, doesn't mean I'm not strong enough to move things by myself.' You give him the sternest look you can muster, but it doesn't seem to phase him.

'I know that, but still, you should be taking it easy. You've been unwell lately, so I don't want you to overdo it by moving heavy objects. Cleaning is all fine and good, but please let me move things for you, okay?' He smiles, and you almost forget that you're a little angry at him. Almost.

'Fine, but if I'm supposed to be taking it easy, that mean sex is off the table tonight.' You start to feel smug, knowing you have him beaten. He merely walks over and kisses your forehead.

'If you think it's for the best, then I won't touch you tonight. We'll probably be too tired tonight anyway; this shop is a mess.' He moves over to the opposite side of the room. Seriously? That was his only response to being denied sex? Given you a kiss and saying 'it's for the best'? Come to think of it, his attitude towards having sex with you does seem to have altered over the last few days. He's been infuriatingly gentle with you, as if he's afraid he'll break you.

You'd noticed the change the morning after you'd asked him to tie you up. That night, he was more than happy to thrust into you with wild abandon, desperately seeking to bring you both to completion. The next morning however, he'd seen to his own pleasure as he took you with his tongue. Usually, he would have brought you to climax before finishing inside of you, but not that morning. His actions have you concerned; does he not find you attractive, now that you've 'married' him? Your first husband had been like that; all over you before one day dropping you entirely. Does he plan to do the same? Drop you, now that you're his?

'Stop it!' You think to yourself. 'That's rubbish and you know it. The poor man is just concerned about you, that's all. He's probably worried sick about your health, especially given how ill you were the other day. Stop comparing him to the men from your past; he isn't them.' The rational part of your brain is right, you should stop your comparisons. Undertaker might be a bit mad, but you know in your heart that he loves you desperately, the same way you love him.

Yet here you are, behaving like a bratty child after he did something nice for you! You need to apologise to him for being so childish.

You walk up behind him and wrap your arms around his waist. 'I'm sorry for acting so argumentatively. I just wish you wouldn't worry about me so much…'

He turns around, bringing you into a proper embrace. 'That's okay. If anything, I like seeing your feisty side. When I first took you in, you'd burst into tears every time you felt you'd displeased me. Seeing you get angry with me just shows me how far you've come, and how comfortable you are in your new role as my wifey. A role I hope you get used to, as you'll be in it for a very long time.' He gives you a kiss, and you deepen it, gently pressing your tongue against his lips. He brings his own tongue out to meet yours, softly caressing it until you moan with pleasure.

He moves his hand down to grab at your bottom, and you're about to suggest shutting up shop for an hour when you hear the door open.

'What a vulgar display. You could at least change the sign if you're planning to rut in the middle of the shop.' You've heard that voice only twice in your life, but you'd know it anywhere.

Ciel Phantomhive.

You turn to face him, and aren't surprised to see Sebastian behind him, watching the two of you intently.

'My apologies, Young Earl. I fear I got a bit carried away. Is there something you're after? Something pertaining to the body fished out of the river last week, perchance? I hope you bought payment. Speaking of which, I believe your butler owes me a glass from his last visit here; it's very rude to break other people's things.' Undertaker approaches his two visitors and smiles, although from where you're standing you can see the dangerous glint in his eyes.

'I do apologise for that, but I really don't think you're the best person to be giving a lecture on other people's belongings, given that you've stolen one of mine.' He looks straight at you, and you feel nauseous. Very nauseous. You're not even sure if it's his gaze causing it; you just feel really sick!

Undertaker isn't willing to let that comment slide. 'If you think people are belongings then I pity you. Then again, given the Lord Phantomhive owns you, it seems only right that you should view people the same way he sees you; as a means to an end.' The nausea persists, but you do your best to keep it at bay; there's no way you're going to miss out on this verbal sparring match.

'I know full well how my master sees me, but how does that whore view you? All this time I'd thought that you were using her, but now I'm beginning to think it's the other way around. After all, she's has a very nice set up here; a house, food, sex… all at the cost of pretending to love you. You really are a fool, Undertaker.' Sebastian smirks, assuming he's had the last laugh. That's when Undertaker unleashes his inner feelings.

'You're nor the first person to call me that, and I doubt you'll be the last. I'll tell you now what I've told everyone else; I don't care. If my happiness is foolish, then I'll relish in it, because I'd rather be a fool in love than a demon who doesn't know what love is. That woman over there has given herself to me time and time again, for no other reason than love. How do I know this? I gave her the chance to leave, to start a new life far away from me. Not only did she chose to stay, but she made a promise to remain with me until her dying breath. I may not be the first man she gave herself to, but I will be the last. You can't claim either of those titles.'

A single tear falls from your eyes. You can feel the love his has for you pouring out of him, making you feel safe even in Sebastian's presence.

Sebastian seems flabbergasted, and is about to respond when Ciel interjects. 'Enough of this. I came here for information. Name your price.' You lean against the desk, trying not to let your nausea show; you don't want to show any weakness to Sebastian ever again.

'That all depends on what you're willing to pay me. I'll warn you now that I'll no longer be accepting laughter as payment; it's money or nothing.' Even in your current state, his statement confuses you; he hates 'The Queen's Coin', so why is he asking for it?

Ciel hands him a bag of coins. 'Will this be enough?' Undertaker looks in the bag and smiles.

'I'll get you your information, wait a moment.' He hands you the coins before going into a draw on his desk, pulling out a document of some kind. He hands it to Ciel. 'This is everything I've gathered on the case. I hope you find it useful. Now if you'll excuse me, I believe I have other business to attend to.' Fat chance of that happening now given just how ill you feel. It's a miracle you haven't thrown up yet.

'Very well. Come, Sebastian.' Sebastian stares daggers at the Undertaker, before turning to stare at you.

'Don't be fooled by his words. All beings are ultimately selfish. Once he's gotten all he can out out of you, he'll toss you aside, uncaring of your fate. Just like your first husband did.' He smirks, but this time you're not going to take it.

'Be a good boy and run along to your master. You don't want to disappoint him; after all, if you couldn't even stop a whore like me from leaving you, who's to say he won't find another demon to serve him, if he grows tired of you?' You smile sweetly, and notice Undertaker visibly shaking. You worry you've made him angry. Sebastian's unable to retort, as Ciel commands him to leave the shop. After the door closes, there's a few moments of silence, before…

'BUAHAHAHAHAHA! That was priceless! Priceless! Did you see his face?! Oh god, if you were still paying me rent, that comment would have covered a whole year's worth! Not that I fully approve of you calling yourself a whore, but I'll let it slide just this once because that was just brilliant!' You can see tears of joy streaming down his cheeks, and you'd love to join him, but your body has other ideas; you run to the toilet as fast as you can, making sure not to drop the bag of coins in your hand.

As you reach the toilet, you lunge forward violently, an entire river of vomit flowing out of your mouth. Undertaker appears shorty after you, his joy replaced with concern. He stays with you as you continue to throw up, just as he did last time.

When you finally finish, he slowly strokes your head. 'I didn't know Sebastian made you feel physically sick. I'll ask him to hide his face next time.' He winks, and you're glad he's playing it off as a joke; it means he's not quite made the same mental leap you have.

He takes you to the kitchen, and pours you a glass of water. He watches you drink, a smile playing on his lips. It's almost as if he's lost in this thoughts…

When you're done, you both return to the shop, only this time Undertaker makes you sit up to his desk.

'Count out how much money the Little Lord gave us if you can. I'll take over cleaning duties. As I said earlier, I don't want you over-exerting yourself.' His request reminds you of a question you have for him.

'Why did you request money from Lord Phantomhive, rather than laughter? I thought that laughter meant the world to you.' He caresses your face lightly.

'You have all the laughter I could possibly need. Now I'm thinking of the future. More specifically…' you hold your breath, half-hoping he'll say cot. 'A new bed. That old thing in there is going to collapse at the rate we've been going at it. I think it's better to replace it sooner, rather than later.' He leans in to kiss your forehead again, before making a start on the cleaning.

As you slowly count the money in front of you, your thoughts turn back to the possibility of you being pregnant.

You realise that so far, your biggest concern has been Undertaker's feelings. Not once have you taken the time to consider your own feelings. Do you want a baby?

You look up at Undertaker, and see him happily prancing around the shop, full of joy and life. You begin to imagine him prancing around the room with a small child, and suddenly the answer becomes clear.

Yes. You do want a baby. All that's left now is to see if fate is willing to let you have what you want.


	14. Truth And Nightmares

It's midnight, and the rain is pouring down relentlessly, drenching everything that doesn't have the good luck to be under some kind of shelter.

Including yourself.

You didn't think things would be like this.

After missing another menses, you'd come to the conclusion that you most certainly were with child. You'd been eager to tell Undertaker, certain that he'd be pleased with the news.

You were wrong.

Instead he'd proceeded to shout at you, saying you couldn't possible be carrying his child; Reapers couldn't have children with human women. He'd then accused you of having an affair, which you'd vehemently denied, of course. He didn't believe you. He'd dragged you out of bed, forcing you out into the pouring rain in nothing but your nightgown. He'd told you to leave, and take your bastard child with you. He warned you that if you ever came back, he kill you both.

He'd slammed the door in you face, leaving you cold, wet, and alone. It's in that state you begin to wander the streets, desperately looking for shelter…

-t/s-

You suddenly jolt up in bed, your whole body covered in a cold sweat. Had that all just been a dream?

Well, you're not out on the streets, so that's a firm indication that it wasn't real.

You take a few deep breaths, trying to calm down; you've been having dreams like this one for about a month now, ever since you realised that your menses simply wasn't coming. You're with child, of that much you're certain. Your anxiety wasn't related to uncertainty about your condition; rather, it was Undertaker's possible reactions to the news that had you waking up in a cold sweat at night.

When you first suspected you were carrying, you had reasoned with yourself that Undertaker would be delighted. However, the reality of the situation is slowing dawning on you; you're going to be bringing another human being into the world, one that'll require a lot of love and attention. Were the two of you ready for that? How would the Undertaker react to having to share you? Would he get frustrated? Angry? Would he end up resenting the child for taking you away from him? As much as you tried to convince yourself that he wouldn't be like that, you just couldn't erase the uncertainty from your mind.

Uncertainty that's already beginning to eat away at your relationship.

It had all started about a week ago; Undertaker had been feeling frisky (as usual) and had tried to instigate relations between you, which had in turn led to you pushing him away, as if him touching you would allow him to guess your condition. Since then he's barely touched you, clearly upset with your sexual refusal. The current rift wasn't making your anxiety any better; if anything, the dreams were getting even more vivid.

You hear a groaning sound next to you; your movement has woken the Undertaker.

'Another bad dream?' You can barely make out his face in the darkness, but you can tell his expression is one of concern. You haven't told him much about your dreams, which has made him all the more worried. You try to put him at ease.

'It's nothing. Go back to sleep.' He seems sad, like your words have hurt him. He closes his eyes again regardless, and falls into what you can only imagine is a forced sleep. You yourself decide to follow suit, refining into bed once more.

As you drift off to sleep, you only pray that this time it's more restful.

-t/s-

In the cold light of day, your dream seems rather foolish. Granted, you may be having some minor issues with Undertaker at the moment, but you know he'd never go so far as to kick you out onto the streets, especially if he knew of your condition. You wish you could stop yourself from feeling so scared of his reactions; he's never so much as raised his voice when speaking to you, so why are you so afraid he'll act cruelly towards you when he learns the truth? The only way to cure your fear is to tell him, although at present you don't think it's a good idea, considering you're in a discussion with clients.

One has come with her son to discus the burial of her late husband. He died suddenly only a few days ago, and the family is determined to give him the best send off possible. Or rather, the son is. herself is more focused on being nosey than she is picking out a suitable coffin.

'So, how long have you been married, then? Not long, if the absence of children is anything to go by. Are you expecting yet? Best to make a baby as soon as possible, especially in your situation. I bet it would be a great help, having a few more pairs of hands around the place. As his wife, it's your duty to provide him with children. Be sure not to disappoint him!' The woman just wouldn't shut up, and it was driving you mad! Thankfully, Undertaker notices your displeasure.

'Don't you worry, . My new wife is far from disappointing. It's really you we should be worrying about, though. Which one of these coffins do you like best, hm?' His questions have stopped hers, which brings you no small amount of relief. It takes little over an hour for the arrangements to be finalised, after which your clients leave the shop, safe in the knowledge that Undertaker will make sure their instructions to the letter.

When the shop is finally empty, Undertaker walks over to you. 'You handled that situation very well, wifey. I'm proud of you for not hitting that nosey old biddy. How does a nice cup of tea sound? You take a seat at the desk, and I'll bring it out to you.' He's about to kiss you, but he stops himself, as if he thinks he's about to do something wrong. He hurries off to the kitchen, and you're sure the expression on his face is one of shame.

You feel tears threatening to fall from your eyes; was he ashamed of kissing you now? It breaks your heart, thinking that he could feel like that towards you. You're sure now that he is falling out of love with you, and at the worst possible time too. The best thing to do is to leave now, before he makes you.

As you head over to the door, he brings in your tea on a small tray, which he sets on the desk. 'Off out, love? Would you like some spending money? I can give you enough to buy yourself a pretty new dress, if that's what you want. It has been a while since I've taken you shopping, after all. If you're willing to wait, we could both go tomorrow? It would be nice to spend time together outside of this place. What do you say?' Your heart sinks; he won't be suggesting things like that when he learns about the baby. Still, what's one more day? You can live with him in blissful ignorance for one more day, but after that it's time to face reality.

-t/s-

The day turns into night quicker than you were expecting, and before you know it dinner is eaten and the two of you are in bed together; sleeping as far away from each other as the bed will allow. He bids you goodnight as he prepares to drift off, leaving you with your thoughts. 'This will be one of the last nights I spend with him.' You think sadly.

You turn to face him, watching him as he drifts off. His peaceful expression and calm breathing lure you into your own slumber.

-t/s-

Cold metal has somehow attached itself you to your wrists; how did you get into this situation? Heavily pregnant and chained to a bed, with someone looming over you. As you try your hardest to make out their face, a voice whispers to you in the darkness.

'There, there, it's alright. It'll all be over soon. The baby will be out soon, and then you'll be all mine.' You know that voice.

It's Sebastian.

You struggle against your restraints, but they won't budge. Sebastian chuckles. 'Dear me, trying to escape? A pointless endeavour I assure you, given that I was the one who restrained you like this. Even if you did escape, where would you go? The Undertaker has made it very clear to you how he feels about this.' He runs his sharp nails across your belly, and your struggles become frantic, desperate to get away for the sake of your baby.

'Please, let us go! Don't hurt my baby! Please, let us go!' You keep screaming those words, praying that they'll get through to him. He doesn't listen; he merely smirks as he leans down to kiss you.

'You're mine now, my dear. I can do whatever I want to you, and that thing inside of you.' Your screams become louder, as you thrash your whole body against the bed.

-t/s-

You hear your name being called from a far off place, and you can feel your body being shaken. You somehow follow the voice away from your nightmare, and you open your eyes. Undertaker is the one looming over you now, shaking your shoulders as he tries to rouse you from sleep. He looks petrified, like he's seen all of his worst fears come to life all at once.

When he notices you're awake, he quickly removes his hands. 'My love, say something. Anything. You were screaming in your sleep, I've never been so worried. Please let me hold you. I know you don't want me to touch you right now, but please, make an exception for now. I swear, I won't take it as written that I can touch you all I like; I know you're off-limits right now. Please, just let me comfort you in the only way I know.' You leap into his waiting arms, desperate for his embrace. That nightmare is the most vivid yet, and it won't remove itself from your consciousness.

You sob loudly as he cradles you against his chest, stroking your hair. You can hear it raining heavily outside, and the room it dark; it's just like your dream from last night.

When your sobs have calmed down, Undertaker speaks. 'Do you remember what I said the night we got 'married'?' You shake your head against his chest. ''I want this to be the last time we keep secrets from each other.' You're hiding something from me. You have been for at least a month now. Please, just tell me what it is so we can move on from it, because I don't want anything to come between us.' You feel something wet on your head; he's crying too. You have to come clean with him now, for the sake of all three of you.

'I… I think I'm with child.' You close your eyes, expecting a tirade of anger to come your way. Instead, all he does is pull you even closer to you, kissing the top of your head repeatedly.

'I never thought I'd get to hear those words. To think my greatest love might be carrying my child… it seems like too much to hope for. How certain are you?' It's the same question he asked in your dream, but this time there is no anger in his words; instead, you can feel hope radiating out of his very core.

'I've missed two cycles now, so I'm pretty sure. I've had a few other symptoms too, like throwing up. My breasts have been rather tender too. I'm sorry that I haven't been honest with you, but I didn't know how you'd react to the news. We've never really talked about having a child together. Most of our talks about the future have been mid-sex, when our minds are occupied by things other than logic and reason. I was scared you'd reject us…' he shuffles back, and puts both of his arms on your shoulders so he can look you in the eyes.

'Please say that again.' You look confused, but you oblige, repeating your last sentence. His smile is so wide you worry his face will break in two. 'Us! Us! You said us! You and our baby! We're going to have a baby! This is one of the happiest moments of my life! When do we tell everyone? What are we going to need? We should start buying things immediately! These next few months will go by quickly, you know? Can I still touch you? I assumed before that you didn't want me to touch you because of your monthly visitor, but if that isn't the case, can I still give you kisses?!' His joy is contagious; you tackle him onto his back, kissing him with all of the passion you can muster.

His hands roams over your nightgown as you kiss, and a thought suddenly occurs; you haven't so much as touched in a week! You feel the need to rectify the situation immediately, getting off of Undertaker so you can undress, flinging your knickers and your nightie across the room. Understanding your intent, Undertaker removes his underwear at lightning speed, before rotating slightly so he can rest his head on the pillows.

You jump on the bed and crawl over him, breasts hovering over him enticingly. He reaches out and caresses them softly, making sure not to be too rough with them.

His few touches are all it takes to get you wet, and you slide yourself into position over his cock.

You take him in slowly, savouring the sensation; you've missed this so much, and it's only been a week. How are you going to cope when you're too big to have sex comfortably? You'll just have to savour every experience until then.

You start to move, riding his cock as passionately as you can. Undertaker places his hands on your hips, aiding your thrusts and allowing him to thrust too.

The two of you get a rhythm going, and it's not long before you're calling out his name. He isn't finished with you yet, though; he carefully flips your positions before he begins thrusting again.

He's being gentle with you, just like he has been for the last month or so, but this time it doesn't frustrate you; it fills your heart with joy. He leans forwards so he can starts talking to you.

'You're all I've ever wanted, rolled into one amazingly beautiful package. To think you're willing to let my child grow inside of you for nine whole months… you are willing, right? Please tell me you want this too.' You cry, but this time it's from joy; he's worried about your feelings, the same way you've been worried about his. You can't believe that you'd somehow let your anxieties get in the way of what you've always known; Undertaker loves you, and he wants to start a family with you. At first you'd kept the truth from him out of fear he'd be disappointed, but that had somehow transformed into the fear of him rejecting the idea entirely. You've been a fool, but that's alright; when it comes to Undertaker, you know you can be foolish, because he'll always accept you anyway.

You answer his question. 'Of course I want this! I was so afraid you wouldn't… but that was silly of me. If only I'd told you from the start… I'm sorry for keeping this a secret, but I swear, this is the last time I keep something from you. We have to set a good example for the little one, after all.' You run a hand over your still-flat stomach, and the sight of it is enough to send him over the edge.

His release fills you completely, and you gladly accept every last drop, loving the way it feels inside of you.

He withdraws almost immediately, not wanting to risk leaning on the new life inside of you. He cuddles in next to you, and starts to rub small circles over where his child is slowing growing inside of you. He starts talking again.

'I hope this is the end of those nightmares you've been having. That last one seemed especially bad. I'll not make you relive it by telling me about it, but you should know; if anyone tries to harm you or our baby, I'll put that scythe under the bed to it's intended purpose.' You snicker.

'What, harvesting grain?' He burst out laughing, effectively killing the moon. You wouldn't have him any other way though.

As his laugher subsides, he starts spooning you, being careful to keep his hand firmly over his child too.

You drift off to sleep quickly, relieved to discover that your nightmare isn't waiting for you.


	15. Reassurance

The morning sun bathes you in light so bright you have to open your eyes. The birds are singing at the top of their little lungs, and the Undertaker is still snugged into you, hand still resting on your belly. You let out a deep sigh; you wish every morning could be as perfect as this one.

Knowing that you'll get no more sleep now, you turn the face Undertaker, littering kisses all over his face. He opens his eyes slowly, gazing sleepily at you.

He raises a hand to stroke your face. 'Good morning, wifey. I take it you didn't have anymore bad dreams?' You shake your head. 'I'm glad. I was starting to worry about you. Well, more than usual.' Now that he's awake, you start kissing his lips. Soft pecks at first, but after a while you can't help but deepen the kiss. He moans into your mouth as your tongues caress each other, hands beginning to roam your body.

He sits up, and coaxes you onto your back, reversing your positions without once breaking the kiss. He has to break it eventually though, and when he does, he peers down at you to ask a question.

'Feeling frisky at all, my lovely? I'll understand if you say no, but it would be nice to make love again this morning.' He begins kissing your neck, and you start moaning, trailing your hands along his torso. You wrap your legs around his waist, and start to rub yourself against him.

The friction has the desired effect; in no time at all, you're feeling extremely frisky.

You use your teeth to tug gently at one of his earrings. 'I like the sound of early morning lovemaking, on the condition that we have a nice big breakfast afterwards; I am eating for two, after all.' He moans into your neck, and you mentally make a note that he seems to find your condition arousing.

He moves his mouth down to kiss at your breasts lightly, careful not to put too much pressure on them. You'd mentioned last night that you've had sore breasts, and he seems to have remembered. He always remembers things like that when it comes to you.

You feel the first tentative signs of an orgasm brewing, and decide that you've had enough of his teasing touches; you need to feel him inside of you.

You angle your hips so that his tip is poised to enter, and he gets the message, adjusting himself slightly so he can slide into you.

He seems to be a tiny bit rougher this morning, his desire to be gentle with your being overridden by his own lust. He eventually realises, and tries to slow down, only for you to start bucking your hips against his.

'You don't have to be quite so gentle with me. I'm not going to break. You know I can take it a bit more forcefully.' His pace does speed up a bit, but there's concern in his eyes.

'It's not you I'm worried about.' His concern is sweet, and you're so grateful you've found someone willing to put your child's needs above his own.

You push some of his hair out of his eyes. 'The baby will be fine, my love. Trust me, I'd know if something wasn't right. Now hurry up make love to me like you mean it.' Your words spur him own, making him thrust into you harder than before. His change of pace is enough to make you both finish quickly, crying out in unison as you reach your respective ends. Undertaker does his best to draw out your orgasm, thrusting until he has nothing left to thrust with.

He slips out of you as soon as he's finished with you, and assumes the same position as he did last night, hand resting on your belly. He strokes it slowly, almost like he's apologising to its current occupant. He moves his head to rest on it, and you hear him whispering to it.

'I'm sorry if I was a but rough, but your mummy is just so beautiful I couldn't help myself. I bet you're going to be just as pretty as she is, aren't you? Pretty little baby…' you don't know whether to roll your eyes or cry, his actions equally parts cheesy and sweet. You settle for stroking his hair, as you try to calm your racing heart.

You stay like this for a few moments, before he presses a kiss to your belly and leaves the bed. He passes you your previously-discarded nightgown as he dons his robe, the room feeling slightly chilly despite your morning exercise. When you're done, he takes your hand and escorts you to the kitchen.

On today's breakfast menu was something a little different; scrambled eggs, made with milk. You look at you plate, grateful but confused; you almost always have pancakes. Why scrambled egg?

Undertaker senses your confusion. 'I thought they might be a bit better for the baby. I can make pancakes if you want.' He seems almost panicky, as if he's upset you. You take a bite out of the eggs to ease his panic; they taste wonderful, just like everything else he's ever cooked you.

He beams at you. 'That's okay then. Make sure you eat as much as you can. I have to make sure my growing family is well-fed, after all.' His soppy behaviour has you feeling foolish; not 24 hours ago, you were preparing to leave this house, scared of his potential reactions. Now here you are, eating eggs and being fussed over. You really shouldn't have wasted your energy on worry. Speaking of yesterday however…

'I have a confession to make.' You say suddenly, causing Undertaker to pause mid-bite. He looks at you with curiosity, silently urging you to continue.

'Yesterday, when I made to leave the shop… I wasn't going to have a look around town. I was planning to leave you. I was so scared you'd react badly to my news, I panicked! I figured it would be best if I left of my own volition, rather than waiting to be kicked out. I'm so sorry, my love. I fear I misjudged your actions again…' you can feel tears building in your eyes, but you try your hardest to stop them. You know how much he hates seeing you upset.

He doesn't say anything at first. The two of you spend what feels like an eternity just staring at each other. When he finally speaks, you're relieved to hear his tone is soft. 'That's okay, love. I know you have a tendency to think the worst of people. I don't take any offence to it. While you're feeling honest, perhaps you'd be willing to tell me of your dreams? It might help to put your mind at ease, hearing what I would do in the scenarios your mind created.' You hesitate, not wanting him to worry about your metal state as well as your psychical one. However, it seems unfair to deny him his request, given how well he's taken your honestly so far.

'It's always raining in my dream, just like it was last night. I come into the bedroom, eager to tell you that I'm carrying our baby. When I do, you angrily question my certainty. When I tell you I'm sure, you start shouting at me, telling me the reapers can't father children with mortal women. You accuse me of having an affair, and when I deny it you drag me out of bed and throw me onto the streets. You tell me that if I ever come back, you'll kill me an the baby.

'I wander the streets in the rain until Sebastian finds me. He takes me in, but he's so cruel to me. He isn't like you. When I'm heavy with child, one night he chains me to the bed. It feels like he's going to take the child from me. I scream and I cry but he doesn't listen. That's when I wake up.' You are crying now, so you get up and sit yourself in Undertaker's lap. He welcomes you into his arms, cradling you to his chest. When your crying has eased off a bit, he gives his answer.

'Sebastian will never touch you or our baby. I won't let him. Of that, you can be certain.

'I'd never kick you out of here, especially when you're in such a delicate condition. Even if I doubted that the child was mine, I still wouldn't force you to leave. I'd even raise it as my own, if that's what you wanted.

'For many years, no one knew for sure of reapers and humans could produce children. To my knowledge, no female reaper has ever slept with a human male, given how all of them are snapped up by high-ranking reapers practically on arrival.

'Do you remember me telling you about the reapers that used to sleep with unsuspecting newlyweds on their wedding night? Almost all of those women went on bear a child, although the paternity in all cases can't be 100% verified; the children could easily have been fathered by the late husband of the woman in question.

'It wasn't until certain reapers went a step further that we discovered conclusively that human women could have children with reapers. Do you know what an incubus is?' You've been listening intently until now, lost in his words. Realising he was after an answer, you shake your head; you've never heard the term before.

'An incubus is someone who has sex with someone in their sleep. The first Incubi were demons, who were also curious to see if they could mate with humans. Alas, they discovered that they could only mate with humans that they staked some kind of claim on. I'm sketchy on the details, but it seems to involve some kind of ceremony that takes place over a few months. The intended party must also have prior carnal knowledge of the demon, otherwise the ceremony results in death. Again, this is just what I've heard.

'Anyhow, after watching demons get away with taking women in their sleep, a small handful of reapers thought they could do the same. They acted as the demons did, sneaking into the beds of unsuspecting mortal women in an attempt to mate with them. Unlike the demons, the reapers bore fruit; the women they visited all ended up with child.

'As soon as the council discovered it, they executed the reapers involved, and tried to hide the knowledge, afraid of the consequences should the whole of the reaper realm discover the news. The only reason I'm privy to such information is that I was a junior manager at the time, who just so happened to hear a conversation between my higher-ups. I've kept that knowledge a total secret until now, also fearing the consequences of such a discovery.

'I'm afraid I've waffled on longer than intended, I do apologise. The point I'm trying to make is that I know it's possible for us to create life. The little one in your belly proves that.' He gently runs his hand over where your baby is growing, before finishing his monologue. 'You're my wife, not legally, but in spirt. No matter what happens, your place is here with me, safe and loved.' He kisses your head.

Your heart swells with joy; he's the soppiest man you've ever met, but he's also by far the most wonderful. You gently kiss him on the lips.

'Thank you, my love. It really was just a stupid nightmare, I shouldn't have let it affect reality. I know how much you love me, and how much I love you.' You kiss him again. 'I know you said you'd take me shopping today, but can that wait? I'm not really feeling a trip into town today. Besides, it's pointless to buy clothes that aren't going to fit before too long.' Your words have him beaming again.

'Whatever wifey wants, wifey gets! We can spend the day together in our shop instead. No work for you though; you have a much more important job. You just sit at the desk and look pretty, I'll handle the rest!' He begins feeding you his breakfast, and you have to fight to keep from laughing as his fork approaches your mouth.

-t/s-

When breakfast is done and you're both properly dressed, you head on into the shop, ready to start work.

A few hours into the day, and you've had no customers. The quiet would normally seem boring, but you feel as though you've had enough excitement this morning. Undertaker decides that this is the perfect time to prepare a pot of tea for the two of you, giving you a deep kiss before scurrying off to the kitchen. As you hear the water bubble on the stove, there's a knock on the door. You're confused; most customers just walk in, so who's knocking?

You cautiously make your way over to the door, opening it slowly. You recognise the man on the over side immediately, but it takes him a whole sentence to register your identity.

'Greetings, I've come to pick out a coffin for my late wi- YOU?! What's the meaning of this, woman?! I want the Undertaker, not some trollop! You should have stayed on the streets where I left you! Let me in before I make you pay for all that you have done!'

He barges into the shop, and you back away as quickly as you can, not wanting to risk him knocking into you.

The two of you exchange frowns as you stare at each other from across the room.

The man is question is James Scottington, your former husband.

This is not going to end well.


	16. Courage And Anger

The room suddenly feels very cold. You haven't moved since James entered, body paralysed with fear. What is he doing here?

Well, he'd said he was coming to 'pick out a coffin', but still. Why here, and why now? Your life has taken turn after turn for the better lately. Now it's threatening to take a turn for the worse.

No. You won't let it. You're done being afraid of this man. Of any man. You have a home here, and a man who loves you more than anything. You're not the same frightened little women you were when you were with him.

You clench your fists, and stand up straight. 'Welcome, Sir. I hear you're after a coffin? I'm sorry to hear that, but I'm sure my husband and I have just what you need. What kind of coffin were you thinking?'

He looks gobsmacked. He was expecting you to cower, no doubt. Well not today! Not ever again.

His face turns red from anger. 'How dare you speak to me like that, woman! You've forgotten your place! You're nothing, you hear me? You're just some whore barely fit to lick my boots!

'What do you mean by 'my husband and I'? Surely you haven't found some stupid bastard to take you in? Poor fool. Does he know about me? About that damned butler?' He approaches you slowly, standing directly in front of you. You stand still, refusing to be intimidated by him.

'I'll bet he doesn't. I bet he thought you were some poor virgin, perfect to act as his 'little wife'. I bet he didn't even notice just how loose your nether lips are, blinded by his perceived good-fortune. I'll make sure he knows just what kind of woman you are when I see him.' His words are meaningless and you know it; Undertaker already knows about your past, and he doesn't care. All that matters now is that you're here with him.

You figure it won't be long until Undertaker returns, so you decide now is the time to shut him up. After all, if he retaliates, Undertaker will knock seven shades of shit out of him for sure.

You smile sweetly. 'He knows exactly the kind of woman I am; a loving one, willing to stand by him no matter what. It's saddening that you couldn't inspire that same loyalty, but that's life. Now, about that coffin…' he looks at you with fury in his eyes. You can feel him preparing to strike you when you hear a sing-song voice approach.

'Tea for wifey, tea for wifey, got to bring my wif-ey tea ~' he's beaming, unaware of the situation unfolding between you and James.

He sets the tray he's holding down on his desk, noticing James for the first time. 'Good afternoon, Sir. Here for a coffin, I take it? We have plenty to choose from. I take it my wife has already told you that though. What's he looking for, my lovely?'

You see James lower his hand, not about to strike you in front of Undertaker. You thank your lucky stars for your lover's impeccable timing.

James turns away from you completely, facing the Undertaker. 'Bad business, I'm afraid. My wife has just passed away, and I'm in need of a coffin for her.' His wife? He'd married again? Someone else had actually wanted to spend their life with this man? He thought the Undertaker a fool, but this late wife of his must have been completely stupid.

'I'm sorry to hear that. I'm sure we can find something suitable. Do you have her dimensions?' James looks at the Undertaker, clearly confused.

'I didn't think you'd need them, so I don't have them. I don't want a custom-made coffin anyway; I don't have the money to waste on something like that. Just give me any old box to shove her in and have done with it.' You're beginning to question for what feels like the hundredth time what you ever saw in this man. He was vile, and you feel unclean thinking about all the times he'd touched you when you were newlyweds. If you'd only met Undertaker sooner, you would never have let this man near you.

Undertaker frowns slightly. 'Come now, that's no way for a man to speak about his late wife. I'll be more than happy to sell you one of the coffins I've already made, but I want to make sure she'll fit properly. You don't want her body to spent eternity feeling cramped, do you?' You can tell he doesn't like James all that much, and you wonder if he's figured out who he is. He only knows your former husband by name, after all. You're willing to bet he'd dislike him even more if he knew who he was.

'You presume to tell me how to speak? The impertinence of it all. I'll have you know I am a very important businessman. I refuse to be spoken to in such a manner!' Great, he's getting angry again. Part of you wishes Undertaker would just kick him out already.

'I apologise, sir. Why don't you come and look at our coffins with me? My wife hasn't been at all well lately, she's not really up to showing you around.' James smirks.

'No doubt suffering from some kind of venereal disease. You have to be careful when picking women off of the streets; you never know what you might catch.' You see Undertaker's fists clench; it's not like him to get this angry over things. Not even Sebastian had elicited that kind of reaction from him. You gently place your hand on his shoulder, willing him to be calm. He exhales loudly.

'Tell me, do you have a family? Other than your late wife that is?' James seems thrown off by the question; as are you, come to think of it.

He answers hesitantly. 'No, I don't. God has cursed me with two barren wives in a row, one of whom cheated and the other… well, that's why I'm here. My parents both died when I was a teenager, and I'm an only child.' You've heard his sob story before, but not the first part; barren wives? That simply wasn't true! Granted, you can't be sure about his latest wife, but you're far from barren. Undertaker had managed to get you with child almost immediately. You mentally will Undertaker to prove him for more information.

Not for the first time in your relationship, you swear he can read your mind.

'That is a sad story. Barren wives, you say? How awful. It's a shame you'll never know the joys of expectant parenthood…' James smirks, clearly about to tell Undertaker who he is.

'Nor will you, if you keep that tramp with you. You see, I was once married to that thing over there, and in that time not once did she fall pregnant. So I started looking elsewhere; no point sowing good seed on barren land. Then I discover that she's been unfaithful to me, the ungrateful bitch. Most men would have thrown her out for her failure to provide children, but I took pity on her, and look what that got me! She humiliated me! I'd advice you to get shot of her as soon as you can, before she drags you down too.' He looks smug, but you know Undertaker is going to wipe that smirk clean off. James thinks he's destroyed Undertaker's perception of you. In fact, all he's done is given Undertaker all the ammunition he needs to make James feel very stupid indeed.

Undertaker smiles softly. 'I take it this other wife of yours failed to provide you with children too. Is that why she's needing one of my coffins?' James is about to stutter a reply, but Undertaker keeps talking. 'You spoke of not sowing good seed on barren land, but I'll tell you know; even the most fertile ground won't grow rotten seeds. Have you ever considered that you might be the problem, not your wives? I doubt that you have. You seem the kind of man who's too arrogant to consider that you might be at fault.

'How's your business going, by the way? I hear another partner backed out recently. It looks like it's going to be a tough year for you. I wonder if you'll be able to find a third wife now that your fortune is in jeopardy. I can't imagine anyone deciding to marry you based on your personality. Then again, we all have moments of madness, as my wife's former relationship with you is any indicator.

'Speaking of my darling wife, I can tell you know that she's far from barren; we've been intimate for little under three months now, and she's already carrying my child.

'You recall I asked about your family earlier? There was a reason for that. I was wondering who'd be coming to pick out your coffin when you pass on. I warn you now, if you say one more vile thing about my wife, I'll make sure to shove your body into any old box. Do you still want the coffin?' You're stunned, Undertaker proving once again that no one insults the woman he loves.

James stutters, unable to think of a response. He walks over to the exit, mouth mimicking a goldfish. As he makes to leave, words finally appear in his mouth.

'You'll regret this! All three of you! I'll ruin you! RUIN YOU! JUST YOU SEE IF I DON'T!' He slams the door, making the whole shop shake a little.

You help yourself to the tea on the desk, trying to calm your nerves; that was one visit you could have done without.

Undertaker stands behind you and wraps his arms around your waist. 'Looks like we lost a customer. Can't say I care. You always talk about how sleeping with Sebastian was your biggest mistake, but I beg to differ. That was only two small mistakes; being married to that this is a dreadful tragedy.' You giggle a little, and set your tea down on the table. You put your hands over his as he brings them to your belly.

'Thank you for standing up for us. We really appreciate it. In fact, if you sit down behind your desk for a while, I'll show you just how much your assistance is appreciated.' You can feel the beginnings of an erection digging into you, and hope that he's figured out what you're offering him.

He moves towards the chair, keeping you in his arms so you'll come with him. He sits down, bringing you into his lap. You kiss each other passionately, tongues intertwining in a dance that's become familiar to you both.

You slowly slide off of his lap, palming his now prominent erection as you go. He starts groaning, and you take that as an encouraging sign.

When your legs reach the ground, you begin to push his robes up his legs until they gather at his side. He's decided not to wear anything at all underneath it today, meaning his erection is now directly in front of you. You start to feel nervous; you've never done this before. You'd attempted it with him a few times, but always backed down, afraid you'll do it wrong. You're feeling brave now though, emboldened by all that's happened lately.

You take his tip into your mouth, sucking on it gently. He lets out a gasp; you must be doing something right.

Abandoning the tip, you pepper his shaft with kisses, making sure not to miss a single centimetre of it. He begins thrusting his hips, and you that as a hint that he needs more than just kisses; he needs something to thrust into.

You open your mouth as wide as you can and let him slide into, taking care not to gag. You can't take much of him in; you don't exactly have a lot of practice with things like this. You make up for this by grasping what's left of his shaft, squeezing it slowly as your hand and mouth work in unison, determined to ruin him.

He threads a hand into your hair, doing his best not force more of himself into you; he doesn't want you to feel uncomfortable.

You pick up your pace, and he starts moaning uncontrollably, losing himself in pleasure. He cries out a warning before finishing in your mouth, your name on his tongue as he reaches his climax.

You swallow every drop of his release, loving the taste of it. It's bitter, and vaguely salty, but the fact that it's his makes it delicious.

When he comes down from his high, he covers himself back up before taking you into his arms again. He starts kissing your face.

'Mm, that was wonderful, my darling. Is there anything I can do for you?' He strokes your face, and you smile at him.

'Tell me you love me.' You say. You know he does, you just want to hear it.

He gives you a tender kiss. 'I love you.'

You snuggle into him, basking in the warmth of his love.

After a while, you get to thinking about what James had said; 'I'll ruin you'. At first, those words had concerned you, but they'd seemed familiar somehow. As the Undertaker runs small circles down your back, you remember where you've heard them; he said those words to Lord Phantomhive on the day of your visit.

The realisation makes you grin. His threat is an empty one, and you know it.

There's nothing that could ruin your life right now.

You won't let it.


	17. Morning Activities

'Undertaker… please… more… harder… yes!' You cry out into the room, body awash with pleasure.

This morning marks three and a half months since you and the Undertaker first transitioned from housemates to lovers, and you were celebrating in style. Well, not exactly celebrating. More like spontaneously making love.

After receiving your usual smattering of good morning kisses from Undertaker, a wave of pure lust had crashed over you, prompting you to start rubbing your groin against your lover's legs, hoping he got the message. Thankfully, it didn't take Undertaker long to figure out exactly what you were after. He'd immediately placed his head between your legs, and started to eat you out like a man possessed.

He's been in that position for a while now, apparently enjoying the way you taste. He's about to bring you to climax for a second time this morning, using nothing more than his tongue. You are fortunate indeed to have a lover who delights in bringing you pleasure. Still, you suspect he may have an ulterior motive…

His motives don't matter right now though. All that matters is how his tongue feels inside of you, lapping at your juices and causing even more to flow. The noises he's making are beyond obscene, which somehow turns you on even more.

You have to cover your face with a pillow to stop yourself from waking everyone within a mile radius. You swear this is the single most intense orgasm you've ever had, the pleasure making every last inch of your body feel weightless. Tears start pouring from your eyes, overwhelmed by it all. When you've finished, Undertaker sits up and starts cradling you in his arms.

He rubs a hand along your back. 'Was that too much? I'm sorry, I just wanted you to feel good. Please don't cry.' You choke out a laugh; for someone so smart, he can be really dense at times. Either that or he's worried. Knowing him, it's probably the latter.

You free yourself from his embrace, and get onto your hands and knees, presenting yourself to him. 'Do you still want me to feel good? If so, I suggest you stick that beast between your legs inside of me, and take me as if we're animals rutting in heat!' Your request prompts an instant change in his attitude; he's inside of you in seconds, grabbing onto your hands as he starts doing as you instructed.

He always puts so much passion into everything he does, from the way he treats his 'guests' to the way that he loves you. His body is moving into yours lovingly, despite how rough he's being. His thumbs start to stroke yours, as if he's trying to silently apologise. You don't understand what he has to apologise for; no one should have to apologise for being this good in bed.

You start crying out, somehow feeling the tender shoots of third orgasm. You know you won't be reaching it this morning, however; Undertaker's pace is somehow increasing, signalling his impending release. You decide to push him over.

You tighten your inner muscles around him, squeezing around his entire length. The sudden pressure catches him off-guard, triggering his release before he even knows it's coming.

He keeps his thrusts steady as he finishes, gradually getting less forceful. When he's done, he falls onto his side, using you intertwined hands to bring you into an embrace. He removes his hold on your hands, and starts to cradle your belly. A small bump as formed there now, conclusive evidence that you really were expecting. He hums contentedly.

'Mm, what I lucky man I am. To think that my lovely young wife still desires me, despite her delicate condition.' He gives your neck a few kisses, earning him a giggle from you.

'You're not the only one who's lucky. Most husbands would force themselves upon their wives. At least you take my feelings into consideration…' you put one of your hands over one of his, interlinking your fingers over your still-forming child. He gives your ear a little nip.

'Sex is so much better when both parties are willing. It adds an emotional depth that is essential for proper courtship. Besides, if I forced myself on you, I'd risk harming you and the baby, so you don't have to worry about me doing such a thing. The two of you are everything I've ever wanted, and I'll do whatever it takes to make you both happy.' You start crying again, but this time is from joy rather than ecstasy. After the all the ways you've been mistreated in the past, you still can't quite believe you've found someone who truly loves you.

You turn your head to give him a quick kiss. Your body starts to feel tired from all the exercise you've just had. 'I think what would make me happiest right now is staying in bed all day. I'm not sure I want to leave it ever again.' He grins at you.

'You can if you want to. I can bring you some food on a tray, and manage the shop on me own. I'll even give you a little bell, so you can summon me if you need anything.' He's seems far too pleased with your idea; he's planning something.

You decide not to play into his hands. 'That's okay my love. I think it'll do me good to move around while I still can. I'm going to weigh as much as a small horse before too long.' You sit yourself up and he comes with you, hand determined not to leave your belly. You roll your eyes at him, but he just smiles and puts his head down to speak to his child.

'Mummy is quite the contrary one, isn't she? I bet if I told her to leave bed, she'd stay in it!' You pet his hair, allowing him to caress the bump for a few more moments before slipping out of bed carefully. He sprints out of his side of the bed, rushing to fetch you some clothes.

He grabs you a loose-fitting cotton dress, and proceeds to put it on you, kissing your body as he goes. You're starting to feel aroused again, and briefly reconsider the idea of staying in bed all day. Alas, you really can't. You'd go mad if you sat alone in bed all day.

He puts on his own robe before holding out his hand for you to take. When you do, he practically skips to the kitchen with you, clearly in a fantastic mood.

As he prepares breakfast for you, your mind flashes back to a conversation you had in here the day after your pregnancy was announced. There's something that's been bugging you ever since that day.

'My love, can I ask you something?' He smiles at you.

'Of course, wifey. What is it you want to know?' You take a deep breath; you know he isn't going to like your question.

'What would the other grim reapers do if they found out about us?' He freezes, clearly not expecting that question. His whole body seems ultra tense, and for a moment you deeply regret you line of questioning. He takes a deep breath, trying to compose himself before giving you an answer. He looks you straight in the eyes when he answers.

'Nothing. At least, not to you. The crime of harming a human before time is a serious one. Even more serious than choosing to mate with one…' he dishes up breakfast is silence, his mind trying to formulate the second half of his explanation. You wait patiently for him to continue.

'Things are more complicated for me. If I had taken your offer of sexual favours, and if we had taken precautions, I would have been let off with a warning. However, the situation is different now, what with you expecting and all. I'm unsure if any living reaper other than myself knows that such a union is possible. Most of the old council were killed fighting demons a few centuries ago. This news could shake the very foundation of reaper society. Naturally, they'd want to silence me, as they silenced the others.' You can't believe what he's saying; if the other grim reapers find out about the two of you, they'll kill Undertaker. You feel faint; you can't lose him, you just can't!

He strokes your face. 'There is an alternate course of action. I don't know if I told you this, but when I left the reapers I held a very high rank. Some would even go so far as to say I was a legend. With that kind of sway, I've no doubt I could convince them to spare my life, for a price. Information has always been my greatest export, and I have a whole wealth of it that they could have in exchange for leaving me alone for good. I think they'd accept that offer; they're a pragmatic bunch. Please don't worry about it, love. You're in no condition to worry about anything, other than expanding our family.' He leans over for a quick kiss before he begins eating.

You wolf down your food, all the bedroom activities clearly having an effect on your appetite. He watches you while you eat, and you begin to think he gets a kick out of it.

When you've both finished, you insist on cleaning up. He kisses you deeply. 'That would be most helpful, oh wifey mine. Actually, I've just remembered I have to do something this morning. Can you open up for me when you're finished in here? There's a kiss in it for you.' You smile at him.

'Two kisses, and I want a cuddle too.' He hastily agrees to the deal before running out the door. You hear the main door slam closed, and the tell-tale bang of the sign falling down. He really needs to fix that. You let out a small sigh; you hope he'll be back before too long.

Little do you know, soon he'll be back with a big surprise.


	18. Commitment

The Undertaker has been out for over an hour now, and you're really starting to miss him. The shop just isn't the same when he's not here…

You've been thinking of things you can do to occupy yourself in his absence. You consider rearranging the coffins on display, but you know Undertaker won't like that; he'd probably have a fit if he returned to find you moving coffins in your condition! You then consider cleaning, but the place is practically spotless…

Baking! You can bake a cake!

No, that won't do. That would involve leaving the shop unattended, which isn't exactly ideal. All you can really do it sit down and await his return.

You're about to take a seat when the door opens. A lone gentleman strides confidentially into the shop. He's tall, and clad in an expensive looking three piece suit. He has a pair of glasses perched on the end of his nose, precariously close to the edge. He pushes them back before staring at you, eyes burning into you.

His stare is unnerving, but you hold your own; you've had far more intimidating customers in the past. You put on the best smile you can muster, and greet him as you would anyone else. 'Welcome, Sir. Are you in need of a coffin today? I'm afraid the Undertaker himself is out on an errand, but I'll be more than happy to assist you.' He makes a small grunting sound before answering.

'You have impeccable manners. That's something I wasn't expecting. I'm afraid that I need to talk to the Undertaker in person, however. Would it be okay for me to wait here for him? I can come back later if it's inconvenient.' He seems polite enough, but there's something about him that you find deeply unsettling. You're not sure what it is, until you take a closer look at the eyes you've been staring at for so long; they're identical to Undertaker's eyes.

This man is a grim reaper.

Internal panic sets in; you cannot let this man discover your relationship with the Undertaker. If the stranger finds out your carrying his child… no, you can't afford to give into fear. Not now. You need to be strong, to put on a brave face and protect your lover.

You smile sweetly. 'You're more than welcome to wait, sir. Would you care for some tea? I doubt the boss'll mind if I raid his stash.' You commend yourself for your quick-thinking; pretending to be Undertaker's employee is genius! Your answer seems to convince the stranger, at least.

'Tea would be lovely. Black, no sugar.' You scurry off to the kitchen to prepare the tea, praying that Undertaker will come home soon.

When the tea is done, you return to the shop, setting the tray down on the desk as you normally do. You pour him a cup that's just as he requested, and hand it to you, hands trembling a little from nerves. He accepts the tea.

'This smells excellent. You clearly have a talent for making it.' You thank him for his compliment before pouring your own cup, sitting down on a coffin opposite him. He looks at you, confusion written all over his face.

'Should you really be drinking tea during work hours? This is a business, not a charity. I'm sure the Undertaker won't be pleased when he returns to find his shop girl sipping tea with a client.' Shit. You've broken out of role. You need an answer, and fast!

Thankfully, living with the Undertaker has quickened your wit considerably.

'He lets me have tea breaks every so often, I'm sure he won't mind. Besides, he'd be more upset if he found out I wasn't entertaining his guest properly.' He lets out another grunt, and you know he can't argue with your logic. He sips his tea without further comment.

The air between the two of you is tense, neither of you making any attempts at conversation. The silence is only making you feel more nervous, but you can't think of anything to say. Finally, as he finishes his tea, the stranger starts speaking again.

'That was as divine as it smelt. My name is Mr. Spears, but please call me William. I do so hate formalities when there's a beautiful young woman involved.' He smiles a little, and you go into panic mode again; is he trying to flirt with you? Surely not. Unfortunately, you suspicions are confirmed as soon as he starts talking.

'Tell me, are you currently seeing anyone? I know for a fact that you're not married; what kind of man would send his beautiful wife off to work in a place like this?' Oh great, another man who sees women as little more than objects to be put in a home and stared at. Still, is telling him the truth worth the risk of revealing your secret?

You op to totally ignore his first question, but answer the second one with a degree of honest. 'The kind of man who respects his wife's decisions. Besides, this place really isn't that bad, once you get use to Undertaker's sense of humour.' You force a smile, hoping that you've steered the conversation away from your marital status. It appears to have worked, but there's a problem;

William is very persistent.

He rises from his chair and stalks over to you, a predatory expression on his face. 'I'll take your refusal to answer the question as a no. I really shouldn't be doing this, but I fear it's been a long time since I've had any kind of release. How about we lock up this shop, and you bend over one of these coffins for me? I know it's not the most gentlemanly of propositions, but I assure you your services shall be well-rewarded. Is 10 pounds acceptable?' Unbelievable. You're being propositioned by a grim reaper! Undertaker has told you multiple times that they look down on having relations with humans, but apparently the rules have changed since he was with them.

You have to think of a way to refuse him without giving yourself away.

You decide to play the offended card, and slap him across the face. 'How dare you, sir?! Is that anyway to speak to a lady?! I am not some common whore, I'm a shop assistant! Kindly contain yourself, or I shall have no choice but to throw you out!' You try to hide your fear with an affronted look. Surely this will be enough to put him off.

Unfortunately, it seems to have made him even more determined. He grabs your wrists and pins them to a nearby coffin, forcing his lips onto yours. You try to escape, but his grasp on you is too strong. All you can do is stand there unresponsive, hoping he'll stop when he realises you're not reciprocating his advances.

He pulls back, panting slightly due to his sudden movements. He whispers in your ear. 'There now, see? There's nothing to it. Just say yes and accept my money. No one need ever know.' He releases one of your hands so he can grope one of your breasts. You hit at his arm, but it doesn't deter him even a little.

You have two choices to make; you can either let this happen, or you can tell him of your condition.

To tell him of your condition would be to tell him of your relationship with the Undertaker, something that could well result in you losing him forever. There's always a chance he could talk himself out of execution, but is that a risk you're willing to take?

However, if you let him take you, it'll break Undertaker's heart. He's treated you so wonderfully, and loved you so purely, that to sleep with William would be the ultimate betrayal. He'd sooner risk his own death than have you bed another. You can't bring yourself to hurt him, not even if it means saving him.

For the first time in your life, you realise that there's nothing you can do.

… or is there?

After all, he's done nothing to restrain your legs.

Even though you know full-well you won't stand a chance against him in a fight, you decide to do the only thing you can do; kick him as hard as you can, right between his legs.

Your assailant lets out a scream of pain, doubling over to clutch at his wounded crotch. You take the opportunity to push him over, knocking him onto the hard floor of the shop. He continues groaning in pain, and you make for the door, about to call for help.

Before you can get that far, the door opens, revealing a happy-looking Undertaker. 'Sorry I'm so late, things took longer than I… what's going on?' Undertaker's gaze alternates between you and the wounded reaper on the floor. The happiness on his face is replaced by a plethora of emotions, including anger. He looks at you, as if he's silently demanding an explanation.

All you can do is sob hysterically.

He wraps his arms around you and starts stroking your back. 'There, there, it's okay. I'm not angry at you, wifey. I just want to know what's going on. Please don't cry.' As you hysterical sobbing continues, William recovers enough to stand, albeit with his legs spread a bit.

'That woman kicked me! If I were you, I'd fire her! She's clearly not suited to dealing with members of the public!' He sounds furious, but you're too busy burying your face in Undertaker's robes to see what his expression is. Your head brushes against something, presumably what he set out to collect this morning. You'd normally try to figure out what it is, but you're far too distraught for such things.

Undertaker doesn't sound any calmer than William. 'I'll have you know that this woman is well-loved by both our customers and myself, so that isn't going to happen. May I ask what you did to provoke her? Or why you're here for that matter?' That's a fair point, actually; why is William here?

You hear the sound of glasses being adjusted. 'What I did is irrelevant. She still must be punished for attacking me in such a manner.

'As to why I'm here, I'd sooner we talk away from certain… vicious parties.' You cling tightly to Undertaker, feeling too fragile to be left on your own. Thankfully, he can read you like a book.

'Your aversion to the question is an answer in and of itself. I'm sure I'll get the truth later, once my dear wifey has calmed down.

As for our business, there's nothing you can say to me that can't be said to her. She already knows what we are, William.' His words make you panic even more; if he keeps calling you 'wifey', then William is going to figure out you're involved.

You hear the rustling of paper. 'Officially, you're still listed as being a member of the high council. Therefore, in order to pass our latest motion, I need you to sign this document. I have no doubt you'll be in favour of the motion; it makes the rules on human-reaper interaction slightly more lenient.' There's silence, presumably caused by Undertaker reading the document in question. Finally, after what feels like forever, he starts to speak again.

'That's interesting. The council are finally legalising reaper-human relations, as long as it does not present a conflict of interest. This is wonderful! Ha, it's only taken you centuries! Pass me a pen, and I'll sign this for you on one condition; you apologise to my wife. She's very fragile at the moment, and you've clearly done something to upset her. Say sorry, and I'll allow the motion to pass.' Oh shit. He's told him. What now? Will he take the Undertaker away from you? You cling to him harder than ever, as if you can keep him there using the force of your grip alone.

William makes a frightened noise in the back of his throat. 'Your… your wife? Oh dear. I'm dreadful sorry. Had I only know who she was, I would never have acted in such a fashion. Please accept my sincerest apologises, dear woman. I assure you, it won't happen again.' He sounds afraid, as if Undertaker is making him apologise at knife point.

You try to control your sons enough to answer him. 'Y-you o-o-only say t-that bec-cause you're s-s-scared my hus-sband will k-kill you if y-you don't!' You hear a laugh forming inside of the Undertaker, followed by a loud gulp from William.

He seems very shaken when he speaks again. 'Your signature, Undertaker? The sooner I have it, the sooner I can leave.' You hear a scratching sound, followed by documents being shoved inside of a jacket. With any luck, that means he'll be leaving now.

Sure enough, you hear footsteps heading towards the door. You lift your head up to see William preparing again, but not before saying one last thing. 'I apologise once again for my behaviour. It was unacceptable. I hope this won't affect our working relationship, and look forward to seeing you both in the future. Have a pleasant afternoon.' He leaves, and you've never felt more relieved. You start sobbing again, glad that his visit is over.

Undertaker pulls back a few inches so he can look at your face. 'Whatever did he do, love? I don't think I've ever seen you this bad. Let's shut up shop and talk for a while. You need to calm down, for the baby's sake.' He tries to wipe away your tears, but they keep falling. He slowly walks away from you, not removing his gaze from you once. When he's locked the door and flipped the sign, he leads you to the bedroom.

He takes a seat on the bed, and indicates that you should do the same. You do, but you turn your gaze away from him. You know all hell will break loose when he discovers what transpired a few moments ago.

He puts a hand on your cheek and gently coaxes your head to turn until it faces him. His expression is soft, full of only concern and love. He strokes your face with his thumb, and you finally start talking.

'He… I… I-I don't know where to begin.' He moves closer, wrapping his spare arm around you. The gesture gives you courage. 'I thought he was a customer, but then he insisted on speaking with you. I-I saw his eyes. They're like yours. I figured out that he was a reaper. I panicked. I was so scared he'd find out about the baby… I pretended I was just a shop girl! I made us tea, and I honestly thought it would be okay. Then he started asking if I was taken. I couldn't tell him the truth, I was scared he'd take you away from me.

'He… he offered to pay me for sex. When I turned him down, he got… forceful.' Undertaker's whole body tenses up, and you can see a glint of fury in his eyes.

'Did he hurt you?' You're dreading having to answer that. How are you supposed to tell the man you love that another man's lips have touched yours? That another man has touched you? Sure, you were hardly a virgin when he found you, but that was different; that was before. This was after you'd promised yourself to him, after you'd unofficially married him.

After you'd discovered you were carry his child.

You take a deep breath. You've both promised to be honest. Sometimes the truth hurts, but the pain is nothing compared to the bitter sting of lies.

'He kissed me. I'm so sorry, Undertaker. I… I couldn't stop him, he had my hands pinned to my sides. After that he grabbed at my chest… I kicked him in the groin as hard as I could. I know I should have done it sooner, but I couldn't think straight!

'I'll understand if you want me to sleep in one of the coffins for a while. I deserve it. I've failed you.' You're crying again, tears of heartbreak. You close your eyes, unwilling to look at him. You don't want to see the hate in his eyes, or the heartache.

You feel a light pressure on your lips; he's kissing you. You timidly respond, unsure of the gestures' meaning. The hand on your face trails down your body, coming to rest on your breast. He squeezes it gently, causing you to moan a little. He breaks the kiss, hand once again wiping the tears for your eye.

'There we are. All better. It's like he never touched you. I'm glad you told me what happened. However, if he ever comes back, I'm going to need you to cuddle into me again, just as you did a moment ago. I fear that's the only thing that will stop me from wringing the bastard's neck.' His tone is almost jovial, but you've been with him long enough to know he's serious.

He kisses you a few more times, until your tears have all dried up. Then, he kisses down your face, as if he's trying to remove all evidence of them. It reminds you of the first time you saw his face up close, and how you'd kissed along his scars. In a way, he's doing the same thing. The only real difference is that his scars are visible, but yours exist just under the surface.

You pull away from him, setting your hand on his face. 'Thank you, my love. For everything. Now, why don't I make you some tea? I'm anxious to hear what you got up to this morning.' You make to stand, but he stops you, gently dragging you back onto the bed.

'Close your eyes, my lovely. I have quite the surprise for you.' A surprise? For you? Really? What could it be?

You do as instructed, closing your eyes tightly. You feel him leave the bed, and hear a slight creaking sound directly in front of you. He grabs both your hands, and positions them in front of you, palms facing upwards. He places a small kiss on each of your wrists, before you feel something more solid in them.

He rests his hands on your knees. 'You can open your eyes now.' You do, and you can feel tears forming once again.

It's a small red box. The kind one finds in a jewellers.

You hands are trembling as you open the box. Nestled just inside is a simple silver ring, with a few flowers etched onto its surface. Upon closer inspection, you notice there's an inscription inside of the ring.

'Amor gignit amorem'

Latin has never really been your strong point, but thankfully Undertaker has you covered. 'It means 'love begets love.' I know it isn't much, but I wanted to give you something. A physical representation of our relationship. I probably should have taken you to choose your own, but I wanted it to be a surprise. If you hate it we can…' you cut him off with a deep kiss. He returns it eagerly, lips duelling yours in the age old battle for control. You surrender to him willingly, loving the feeling of him taking control.

When the kiss ends, you hand him the ring. He looks totally lost before you whisper 'I'd like you to put it on me. To make it official.' He wastes no time, sliding the ring onto your finger with ease; it's a perfect fit. You're about to question how he knows your size, but you figure you're better off not knowing. He probably measured you in your sleep or something.

You drag him into another passionate kiss, before standing up again. You'd love to kiss him all day, but alas, you've promised him tea. You're certain he wouldn't mind trading tea for a tumble, but you decide to make the beverage anyhow. After all, it's still early. There could be customers waiting.

You tell him to open up again while you make the drinks. He showers you with a few more kisses before skipping into the shop, singing a song you've never even heard of.

As you prepare the tea, you can't help but admire his gift. Although you've already worn such a thing, knowing it's from him makes it different.

You place your beringed hand over your bump. Life is good.


	19. Surprise

It's been a two weeks since William's visit, and things between you and Undertaker have never been better. He's been so attentive lately, taking care of your every need without a single complaint. Two days ago, you'd woken him up in the wee hours of the morning demanding pancakes. He'd given you a quick kiss before heading off to make you some. He'd returned with a stack as thick as both of your arms, covered in fresh fruit and honey. He'd waited for you to finish, then asked if you wanted more! When you'd told him you were full, he'd taken away the plate, putting it into the kitchen before snuggling up with you again.

Later that same day, you'd told him you were cold, so he brought in the duvet and some pillows and made you a little camp inside of of his coffins (leaving the lid off, of course). You'd had some funny looks from the customers, but you were too happy to care, snuggled up and warm as could be.

Then there's the lovemaking. Your hormones have been driving you wild, prompting you to initiate relations at an almost alarming frequency. The two of you have now officially done it in every room imaginable, and on most of the furniture.

Your current state of being equal parts demanding and horny, and an increased workload thanks to an outbreak of dysentery have caused your poor husband to become very tired. You're surprised he has the energy to stand, let alone take care of you and the shop. He needs a break.

Thankfully, you've concocted a plan that will give him the break he so desperately needs.

All you need to do is convince the Undertaker to leave the shop for a while.

That is a remarkably easy task, given how much he cares for you. You simply have to request a few things from town, and he'll be out of the shop in a heartbeat. At least, you hope he'll do that, or you plan is ruined.

You're both currently sat in the shop, having opened up about an hour ago. Undertaker is filling out a ludicrous number of forms, and you're absentmindedly sweeping the floor, thinking of the best way to ask Undertaker to go shopping for you. You could just ask him, but that seems too forward. Besides, you need to make it look spontaneous, like you've only just thought of things to request.

A brilliant plan hits you.

You stop sweeping, and move your hands to cradle your bump. You start speaking to it, your voice loud enough for Undertaker to hear. 'Daddy's very busy right now, you can't keep asking him for things.' You see Undertaker's head whip towards you out of the corner of your eye. Time to up the anti. 'He loves us both so much, but he has to look after the shop too. Maybe tomorrow we can go out and get what you want. Today just isn't the best day. I'm sorry.' You stroke your belly, and aren't at all surprised when a different hand joins yours. Undertaker has his arms wrapped around you, hands resting near yours. He puts his head on your shoulders, looking down as he speaks.

'Daddy is never too busy for you, little one. Whatever you want, it's yours. What does our baby want, wifey?' It's a terribly dirty trick, but it seems to have worked wonders. Still, you act reluctant, not wanting him to figure out your surprise.

'Honestly, my love, don't worry. It's just that the baby has been making me crave all sorts of things lately. I shouldn't have said anything, I'm sorry.' He kisses you deeply, and you have to fight the urge to tackle him to the floor and have your way with him. Not that he'd object, but that would severely hinder your plans.

He walks around so he's facing you, and caresses your cheek. 'Your happiness is my top priority. Besides, if you're craving it, that must mean the baby needs it. I have no intention of neglecting the needs of the people I love. Whatever it is, I'll go out and get it for you.' You're a terrible person. You should find Sebastian, and have him deliver you to the gates of hell itself. Alas, that would probably break Undertaker's heart.

You beam at him. 'Well, if you're sure, I'd like bacon, eggs, and some potatoes, please. We'll watch the shop for you.' He chucked a bit, hand leaving your face.

'Sounds good to me. I'll get cooking as soon as I get back. I promise I'll be quick!' He kisses you before darting out the door, determined to fulfil your needs as soon as he can.

You wait about a minute, then flip the sign on the door. You quickly head into the bathroom, and proceed to draw him a bath, dropping in some lavender oil to help him relax. Finally, you fetch him some clean clothes and a towel, placing them next to the bath. Set up complete, you head back to the shop, eagerly awaiting his return.

You don't have to wait long; Undertaker clearly doesn't want to keep you waiting. He steps into the shop, arms ladened with food and face full of confusion. He's presumably about to ask why you've shut up shop, but you silence him by putting your finger over his lips and winking. You walk around him, lock the door, and take the food from him. You smile at him sweetly.

'Wait right there while I put these away. I have a surprise for you.' You wink again, and he stays put, curiosity now showing on his face. Your plan to surprise him has apparently been a complete success.

After putting the food in the kitchen, you make a small detour, heading into the bedroom. You reach under the bed as best you can, and retrieve the cloth he uses to blindfold you from time to time.

You practically skip back to the shop, giddy with how well your plan is shaping up. You just hope the rest of the day goes smoothly…

Undertaker sees the cloth in your hands, and grins like a madman. 'It must be a big surprise if you've planning to blindfold me. I can't wait to see what it is.' Your heart sinks; he probably thinks it's something really special. As you wrap the cloth around his eyes, you feel your enthusiasm wane considerably. What if he's disappointed with his surprise?

You lead him to the bathroom, hoping he doesn't hate what you have waiting for him.

When you reach the bathroom, you remove the cloth from his eyes. 'You've been working so hard lately, I wanted to find a way to make it up to you, so I decided to run you a bath. I'm also going make you dinner. I'm sorry for the deception, but I wanted it to be a surprise…' you chew on your bottom lip, anxiously awaiting his response.

His face is a picture; this is the happiest you've seen him since you told him of your condition. His eyes are full of joy, removing all of your anxiety. Clearly, he likes his surprise.

He kisses you passionately before hugging you to his chest, his entire being radiating love. 'No one has ever done anything like this for me. I don't know what I've done to deserve a woman like you, but it must have been something amazing. My wifey…' you feel something damp on your head; is he crying? You look up, and sure enough there are tears falling from his eyes. You smile affectionately at him, your heart melting under his gaze. If you'd only known how happy he'd be, you would have done this so much sooner.

You start to remove his clothing slowly, running your hands over his countless scars. He's been through so much, yet he still finds it in him to love you. He's a good man, and he makes you feel like a good woman.

When he's naked, you lead him to the tub, and watch as he slowly sinks into the water. He lets out a hum of contentment, before letting his whole body relax. You watch him as he baths, wishing you could be in there with him. Alas, in your condition you'd never be able to fit in there comfortably with him.

He sinks his head underneath the water, wetting his hair in preparation for washing. Before he has the chance to grab the soap, you take it, pocketing your wedding ring before working it into a lather.

You wash his hair for him, trying your best to massage his scalp as you go. He starts moaning, your efforts clearly affecting him. Sure enough, when you look down at his lap you can see the tip of his length peeking out of the water.

You finish soaping up his hair, and while he re-submerges, you move down the tub to grasp his erection. He resurfaces almost instantly, gasping in shock. He looks at you, hair sticking to his face and mouth open in surprise. You start to stroke him steadily, hand applying a moderate amount of pressure. He starts thrusting his hips on instinct, moaning all the while. His hands grasp the side of the bath so hard his knuckles start to turn white, and his eyes are tightly shut, his whole body focusing solely on sensation rather than sight.

You speed up your motions after a while, determined to make his finish as soon as you can. A few more pumps are all it takes to have him spilling all over your hand, hips moving erratically as he rides out his orgasm. His seed forms a translucent skin on the water, which props his to leave the bath before getting covered in it.

You're the one who towels him off, taking special care not to leave a single part of him wet. When you're done, you give him a small kiss before requesting that he meets you in the kitchen when he's dressed.

You leave the room and hurry to the kitchen, keen to prepare your meal as soon as you can. It's technically too early for dinner, but that doesn't matter. All that matters is that you're the one doing all the cooking today, not him.

As you enter the kitchen, you put your ring back on and start peeling the potatoes he bought earlier. You hadn't just send him out for any old food stuffs; you'd sent him off for the ingredients you need to cook him a meal.

He enters the room, and is about to start helping when you give him a stern look. 'Today is all about you, mister, so don't even think about doing any work. Just sit back and keep me company while I make you dinner.' He giggles at you slightly.

'If you insist, dearie. By the way, I hope you realise that I'm going to show you just how much I appreciate your efforts. I hope you still have that cloth, because tonight I'm going to pleasure you until you scream my name.' He smiles at you, which makes his words even more exciting. You know that as soon as you step into that bedroom tonight, you're in for a whole world of ecstasy.

You can't wait.


	20. Thank You

Cooking is harder than it looks.

You potter around the kitchen helplessly, trying to figure out what to do. You're making boiled potatoes with bacon and scrambled eggs, but so far it's been a disaster. You've burnt one load of bacon already, and the eggs keep sticking to the pan. You're so frustrated you could cry; all you want is to make a nice meal for your husband. You can't even do that…

Undertaker picks up on your current state of mind. 'You said you didn't want me to help you, but would you like a few pointers?' You could kiss him! You should kiss him! You speed over and plant a kiss on his lips. 'I'll take that as a yes. The potatoes are okay, but you need to cook the bacon and eggs at a lower temperature. You also need to put a drop of oil in the pan.' You do as he suggests, lowering the temperature of the stove and starting the bacon again.

However, the oil is a bad idea; it starts spitting at you. You jump back in surprise, and Undertaker lets out a giggle. 'Hot oil spits, love. You're going to have to be careful.' You glare at him, sticking your tongue out as you do. He winks in response.

You cautiously approach the bacon again, afraid of it spitting at you again. It does, but it's not as violent this time; must be because the pan has cooled a bit.

You make a start on the eggs, determined not to let them stick this time. Miraculously, they seem to be okay. You begin to scramble them, taking care to move them around the pan steadily.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, dinner is ready. You plate up, making sure to give Undertaker the most edible-looking bits of food. He grins happily at you as you take a seat.

'Smells wonderful. Thank you for cooking, love. I appreciate it more than you'll ever know.' You smile shyly at him, before taking your first bite.

It tastes vile.

The bacon is a bit burnt, the eggs are bland, and the potatoes have a strange texture to them that makes you feel queasy. Your heart sinks; he's in for a whole world of disappointment.

He makes a contented noise. 'This is yummy! What a talented cook you are!' He's lying, he has to be. It's awful. You say as much to him. 'That's only because you gave yourself all the worse bits. The good stuff is delicious! Have more faith in yourself.' He looks at you so sincerely you're inclined to believe him.

'Thank you. Still, I'm not as good as you. Perhaps you could give me lessons? I need to start doing more things for us. I can't expect you to look after me all the time. I need to start looking after you more often.' You reach your hand out to him, and he takes it in both of his own. He starts kissing his way across your knuckles steadily, looking at you as he does. When he's kissed them all, he answers you.

'I'm more than happy to teach you, love, but you don't need to do anything. Well, you'll need to help with the little one when he or she appears, but that's not for a while yet. I like looking after you. It gives me a sense of true purpose. For so long I've been alone, filling my years with hollow tasks and meaningless activities. You've brought so much joy into my life, and are currently preparing to bring me even more. If you really want to look after me, then our original agreement of companionship and laughter will be care enough.' You start to cry, crushed by the weight of his sentiment. He can be so soppy at times, but that's one of the reasons you love him so much.

You stand up and, unsure of how to reply, start to wash the dishes.

You get as far as filling the sink when a pair of arms wrap themselves around you. 'Well, there is one more thing you can do for me; follow me into the bedroom and let me show you how much I appreciate your surprises.' He nibbles on your ear, and you immediately stop what you're doing, libido kicking in suddenly. Never mind following, you sprint ahead of the Undertaker, eager to see what he has planned for you.

You stand just in front of the bed, unsure how he wants you. He walks in casually, appraising you with his eyes. He stops walking a few inches before he reaches you. 'Do you still have the blindfold on you?' He asks. You produce it from your cleavage, where you'd tucked it before undressing him earlier. He takes it from you, grinning ear to ear like a madman.

'Turn around then, my lovely.' You do as instructed, and he secures the blindfold over your eyes. You can sense him waving a hand before your eyes, but your vision is completely cut off. Undertaker approves.

He starts to undress you at a leisurely pace, taking his time kissing every last inch of skin revealed to him as he goes. He falls to his knees as the dress falls away, leaving you clad only in your underwear. He takes his time removing them too, sliding them down you legs whist kissing the outside of one of your thighs. When he reaches your ankle, he starts working his way back up, only he chooses to use the inside of your leg this time. A hand caresses the leg not being kissed, and you bend forward, hands grabbing onto the covers as you enjoy his teasing caresses.

His mouth makes it to the apex of your thighs, and he swipes his tongue across you hungrily, tasting the wetness his ministrations have caused you to product.

You reaction is immediate. You cry out into the night, spreading your legs without even realising in an attempt to give him better access. It clearly works, as his tongue slowly works its way inside of you. It feels like forever since his took you this way, although you know it's been mere days since he last had his head between your legs. He's gotten into a routine of eating you out most morning as a wake-up call, but the last few days he's been so tired you've been the one to wake first. He's making up for it now though, creeping a hand up to you with your clit as his tongue continues to lap at your juices.

You begin to feel a orgasm approaching, but there's a problem; your legs have a tendency to give way after an orgasm, but if you fall now, you risk landing on the baby. You start to feel concerned, until Undertaker stops, and rises to his feet. He nibbles your ear again as he starts to caress your bump.

'Do you remember the first night I cut off your vision? I told you how sexy I thought you'd look with child. I was right, you know. I've never seen anyone as desirable as you. I'd like to finish what I've started, but for that we'll need to rearrange ourselves. Turn around, and get onto your back. Open your legs up like a flower in bloom, so that I might taste my own personal supply of sweet, sweet nectar oncemore.' His words are almost enough to finish you off, but alas, mental stimulation just isn't enough. You position yourself as instructed, dangling your legs off of the bed so that he has unlimited access to you.

He picks up where he left off immediately, licking you in a frenzy. You cry out his name as your climax finally greets you, tangling your hands in his hair as you rock your hips into his face.

He doesn't stop moving until he's satisfied you're satisfied. When he does stop, he licks your juices from his lips as he gazes down at you.

Your body is flushed for your resent exertion, positively glowing with post-orgasmic bliss. Your breasts look even bigger than usual, swollen due to your delicate condition. He runs his hands over you tenderly, as if he's touching you for the very first time.

His hands eventually reach your rear, giving it a light squeeze. He's still, and you're sure of you could see you'd notice uncertainty in his eyes. Thankfully, he's always been quick to overcome uncertainty.

'Would you ever be interested in me taking you another way? A less…' his hand trails over your back hole. 'Conventional way? Not until the baby is born, mind; I'd rather we keep our experiments between the two of us.' The idea is certainly a tempting one. After all, it could be good to spice up your romantic life once there's a new addition to the family. However, there's something you've been wanting to try that'll suit this situation perfectly.

'I like the sound of that. Can we do a little experiment tonight though? It's something I've wanted to try for a while now. You can say no, but please consider it.' He takes the blindfold from your eyes, and looks into them.

'Ooo, so wifey has a request, does she? I'm looking forward to hearing it.' He starts toying with a nipple, and you have to fight to keep your concentration. Swallowing all of your nerves, you utter your request.

'I-I'd… I'd like to blindfold you. Please?' Your blush gets even stronger, and you feel embarrassed, right up until Undertaker hands you the blindfold.

'Why, what a naughty little minx I've married. I must have rubbed off on you, in more ways than one.' He winks at you, before spreading himself out on the bed. You put the blindfold on him, and wave your hand in front of his face. He grins at you. 'I'm already half-blind, love. Please, do whatever you want to me. I'm all yours, after all.' His words are true in more ways that one, and that makes your heart sing with glee.

Your first order of business is to undress him, which you do quickly and methodically. When he's totally naked, you straddle his hips, making sure to nestle his erection between your folds. He grunts as he feels the wetness against his sensitive shaft, but you do nothing to further stimulated it. Instead, you focus your attention on the scars littering his chest.

One by one, you kiss across his scars, starting with the smallest before finishing with the one across his neck. From there, you trail kisses down his chest until you reach a nipple. You tease it with your teeth, earning you a sudden thrust of his hips. It threatens to unbalance you, until you dig your nails into his shoulders for support. He cries out, as a look of ecstasy crosses his face. You've never seen him quite so worked up; you need to do this more often.

You decide to try dirty talk, knowing that now is probably the best chance you'll have. You move both of your hands to his nipples, and start saying the first things that pop into your head. 'You like this, huh? You like the way I feel against your cock and your nipples?' His face contorts in pleasure again.

'Yes mistress!' He cries out, and you have to take a breath to calm yourself. You weren't expecting him to call you such a thing, but you find that you love it.

You decide to play along. 'Good boy. It's good to know you feel pleasure, although it's me that really needs the pleasure right now. I've been far too good to you lately, letting you fill me up whenever you want. I think it's time you did something for me.' You hope you've not gone too far, implying that he doesn't satisfy you.

Undertaker is totally immersed in the game now, and is willing to go along with your words. 'A thousand apologies, mistress. I've been too careless lately. I'll make it up to you in anyway you like, so long as you'll let me sink into those warm and wonderful depths of yours.' He is still the champion of dirty talk, as again he comes close to setting you off with words alone. However, you're sure that your demand will make him falter.

'I'm gonna ride your cook for all it's worth, and you're not to spill inside of me until I say so. Is that understood?' It's going to be hard on him, given how worked up he is.

He lets out a cry of 'yes, mistress!', before you allow him to sink into you, length setting into you as naturally as it always does.

You rock your hips slowly, drawing out your experience longer. The last time you'd been on top, he'd flipped your positions and taken command. Not this time though. This time, you're in command, and he knows it.

You quicken your pace a bit, and start squeezing yourself around him. You know this'll make him finish sooner, but that's the plan; a challenge isn't any fun if both sides play fair.

He understands your intentions, so retaliates in his own special way. 'Mistress, may I touch you? I long to feel your ample breasts under my fingers, nipples hardening under my touch as I pinch then slightly. Please let me please you, mistress. I'm here just to please you.' His words really do send you over this time, calling out his name as you go over the edge.

Your movements become erratic, body automatically trying to draw out your orgasm for as long as possible. Undertaker's expression changes into one of pain, and you realise you've not given him permission to finish.

'Your mistress is satisfied. Please, release yourself inside of me.' He does so instantly, and you feel bad about denying him to begin with. As the two of you ride out your ecstasy together, the guilt slowly fades away; all that matters is that the two of you are both satisfied.

When you're both done, you get off of him and collapse onto the bed at his side. You remove the blindfold, before tossing it across the room. You turn onto you side so that he can spoon you, hands taking their usual position on your belly.

After you've caught your breaths, it's Undertaker who speaks. 'I'd call that experiment a complete success, wouldn't you?' He says, nuzzling into your neck. You hum in agreement, suddenly feeling very tired.

He briefly untangles himself from you so he can cover you both up, before returning to his original position. As you let sleep cloud your mind, you hear him utter a few words into your hair.

'I needed today more than I thought. Thank you for looking after me.'


	21. Baby Names And Kisses

_**A.N. Hello all! Sorry this has taken me so long to update; I've been a bit all over the place lately :/ So, please accept this piece of fluff as an apology, and I'll try not to keep you waiting too long in the future ^.^**_

 _ **P.S. To the guest who just asked when the next update will be; you have terrifying timing o.O**_

You're now entering your fifth month with child, and the reality of it is finally starting to sink in. Four months from now, you're going to be bringing a new life into this world, and neither you nor your husband have done a thing to prepare for it. You should be out in town, shopping for essentials. You haven't bought the baby anything yet, and none of your clothes fit properly either. They're so much to be done, you really can't waste any time.

However, your husband doesn't see it that way.

That's why he's spent most of the morning with his head on your chest, applying gentle kisses to your ever-growing bump while you pet his hair. You've both decided not to open up today, instead opting to spend the whole day together doing nothing.

Well, maybe not nothing.

So far, you've had a very productive morning, consisting of cuddling, kissing, eating, and dozing. It's been one of the nicest mornings in recent memory, and you wish you could spend more like it. Alas, when the baby comes you'll never get the chance to sleep in ever again. Still, you wouldn't change your condition for the world, given how much joy it's brought your husband.

He hums in content, clearly enjoying his morning too. 'I can't believe how big you're getting. It makes this seem all so real. In a few short months, we get to meet our baby. Our little boy or girl… what are you hoping for?' He isn't looking at you, gaze still fixed on your belly, but that doesn't bother you. It just illustrates what a devoted father he's going to be.

You don't have to think much before you answer him. 'As long as our baby is happy and healthy, I couldn't care less about gender. I'm guessing you want a boy though? Most men want sons, after all.' He makes a small noise that you take to mean pondering, and he brings a hand up to stroke the bump as he answers.

'You know, I think I'd like a girl. A perfect little version of you. It really doesn't matter to me though; whatever the sex, we'll just keep having babies until we have at least one of each!' He snuggles into your chest like a cat, and you can't help but giggle gleefully at him.

'What if we only have girls though? You'll be the only man in a whole house full of women!' You can feel him smiling into you.

'Sounds good to me, although I feel sorry for any boyfriends they try to bring home when they're older; no man is ever going to be good enough for my girlies.' You start giggling again, and he joins in, the two of you radiating joy. When he finally calm down, he asks you another question.

'How many children do you want?' That's a hard question, especially given how risky pregnancy can be. You squash away your dark thought; this is a happy morning, full of dreams and fantasies.

You think about it for a moment before responding. 'I'd like at least three. Then again, two might gang up on a third. Make it four then. I want to have four babies.' Your wording makes him chuckle a bit, and he responds to your statement by addressing the baby.

'You hear that? Mummy only wants you to have three little siblings to play with! I was thinking we should have at least six more, maybe even seven or eight. I wouldn't want you to be lonely, after all.' Your eyes widen in surprise; does that mean he wants nine children?! Where are you going to keep them all?! Then again, pragmatism does seem to allude him at times…

You smile, despite him not being able to see. 'To keep up with that schedule, you're gonna have to get me with child as soon as this one vacates my womb!' you tease lightly, hoping he doesn't think you're destroying his fantasy. After all, he's more than entitled to fantasise about your future together if he wants. You'd be lying if you said you hadn't thought about it at length…

He responds to your statement in a teasing tone. 'Challenge accepted, Wifey.' You burst out laughing, tears streaming down your face. Even though you know he's teasing, you can't help but think that there's a promise in that statement somewhere…

'Do you really want to have so many children?' You ask him, in as serious a time as you can manage. He hums in affirmation.

'Yep. I've always dreamed of having a big family, full of love and laughter. Now that I've found a woman willing to provide me with such a thing, I can't help but fantasise about the future we're going to build together. If you really don't want that many children, I'm more than happy to compromise on six.' You start giggling again, this morning proving to be a joyous affair indeed.

'Six is hardly a compromise, love, but never mind. I'll bear as many of your children as I can. I want to make you happy.' You feel something wet against your chest; is he crying?

'You make me happy just by being with me. Although, I do so love the thought of you being constantly with child… we'll just have to see what the future brings.

'There is a slightly more pressing concern to address though; our current baby needs a name.' Wow, you haven't even considered that. You've just assumed that you'll decide on one when baby Undertaker makes their big debut. Still, no harm in discussion.

'Do you have any in mind?' You ask. He must have a few, or he wouldn't have mentioned it.

He puts on his thinking expression. 'What about Henry for a boy, and Anna for a girl.' You burst out laughing so violently that his whole head shakes.

'My dogs were called Henry and Anna!' He starts to laugh along with you.

'Well, those names are a no-go then. What about Agatha for a girl?' You scoff affectionately.

'We're having a baby, not an old woman. What about Jasmine?' It's his turn to make a funny noise.

'That's a weird name. Josephine?' You shake your head.

'Sounds too posh. What about Tom for a boy, and Nellie for a girl?' He hums.

'I'm not too keen on Tom, but Nellie is nice. We'll keep that as a maybe. What about Claude? Jason? Douglas?' You giggle.

'Those are silly names. Theodore? Noah? Ezra?' He nods his head.

'I like Theodore. We could call him Theo for short. All right, so we have two maybes then. Can you think of any other names?' You hesitate for a moment. There's a name you've always liked, but you're worried he'll dismiss it, just as your first husband had when you'd discussed having children.

You swallow nervously. 'How does Luciana sound?' He's about to say something, when you feel a strange sensation coming from your belly. You sit up, Undertaker withdrawing his head and looking at you, panic in his eyes.

'What's wrong, love? Is it the baby?' You grab his hands and place them on your bump. He still looks concerned, and is about to say something else when he feels the slightest of movement under his hand. He looks you in the eyes, seeking verbal confirmation on what he felt. You smile at him.

'Our baby has started moving.' He smiles at you, and you see a tear trailing out of one of his eyes. You wipe it away with your thumb, your smile softening as you do. That hand soon rejoins his, and you remain sat like this for a while, overcome with emotion. Feeling the child move is surreal, but it confirms beyond a shadow of a doubt that there is indeed a new life growing inside of you. Your heart swells with love, so much so that you're afraid it'll burst. Undertaker seems to be feel same way, staring at you like you're the most wondrous being in all of creation.

Eventual, the movements lessen, so you decide to assume your earlier position, gently lowing yourself onto your back. He keeps his hands firmly in place, clearly unwilling to let you go.

He settles back into his earlier position before he starts kissing your bump, talking to it again. 'You like that name then, hm? We shall have to consider it then. Though I still like Agatha.' You roll your eyes at him, glad that he can't see you do so.

He continues lavishing attention on you belly, raising his head so he can kiss every square inch of it. His kisses tickle a bit, but the baby seems to love them; they start moving again, almost as if they're trying to copy his movements. You imagine what it'll be like when the baby is here. Will it try to copy its father then? Or will it be your shadow instead?

The baby seems to be everywhere at once, desperate to keep pace. It's definitely going to be daddy's little shadow.

The Undertaker looks so happy, kissing your body with wild abandon. Knowing that you're the one who is mostly responsible for his joy makes your heart sing. You only wish you could have met him sooner. You would have willingly traded your life of luxury for a chance to elope with him. This is everything you've ever wanted; a loving husband, a home, and a baby that you know will be loved more than any other. The realisation is enough to make you cry again, hormones almost certainly a factor.

He catches sight of your tears, and moves up to cradle your face in his hands. 'What is it, wifey? Did I do something wrong?' His concern is so pure, borne solely out of love for you. It makes you cry even more, but you make sure to smile up at him.

'No, you haven't. You've done everything right, and no have no idea just how much I love you for that. Thank you for everything you've given me.' He kisses your lips softly.

'I'm the one who should be thanking you. You are the one good thing in my life, from which other things now stem. I find it hard to imagine my life without you in it. My greatest wish is for us to spend a very long time together, basking in the glorious splendour that is our love for one another.' You kiss him this time, willing all of your emotions into the kiss. When it breaks, you caress his face, starting at it lovingly. A broad smile covers your features, and he asks you what it is that makes you smile so. Your response earns you a passionate kiss.

'We're going to have such beautiful babies together.'


	22. Cots And Doubts

It's been seven months since conception, and you've finally decided that now is the time to start preparing for the new arrival. Well, the new arrival and your ever-swelling body; you've had to start wearing Undertaker's spare robes again, as not one of your dresses fit anymore!

You exit the shop arm-in-arm with your husband, list of essentials in hand. After all, with your baby-brain and your husband's scatty mind, neither of you can rely on you memory right now. You'd only end up forgetting something important, like the baby's cot.

Just thinking about your baby snuggled up in a cot is enough to make you want to weep with joy. Undertaker's enthusiasm is contagious, and you're now just as excited about the new arrival as he is, if not more so. You can't wait to see what they baby is going to look like. You hope that it takes after your husband, but he seems to be hoping for a perfect mini replica of you. Maybe the baby will be a good mix of both? It's such a wonderful surprise, and you can't believe you only have to wait two more months before you find out!

Undertaker sees you smiling to yourself. 'Thinking about the baby? I have been, too. I say we find the most lavish cot imaginable, and fill it with comfortable fabric and blankets galore!' You giggle at him, his inner-romantic shining bright once more. When you'd first met him, you'd thought he was just a lonely old man who had taken pity on you. You never would have guessed that he was a closet romantic with a heart of gold! It brings you hope for the future, as you know that he'll never leave your side. He loves you far too much to let you go, especially now that there's a baby in the mix.

You snuggle into his arm. 'That sounds like a wonderful idea. Although don't forget that I need clothes, too. At this point, I might have to start walking around the shop naked!' You can hear his grin when he answers you.

'In that case, we're spending all the money on the baby!' You smack his arm playfully, and he giggles gleefully. He's such a tease at times, but you wouldn't have him any other way.

You reach your first destination; a smallish shop, dedicated to selling nursery items. The perfect place to find a cot!

As you walk in, you're greeted by a tiny old lady clad in a mauve dress. She smiles cheerfully at the two of you. 'Welcome! How may I help you today?' Undertaker beams back at the woman, and wriggles his arm free of yours so he can caress your bump with both hands.

'We need somewhere to put this little one when they come out!' She giggles slightly at his antics, and you roll your eyes affectionately.

The woman walks over to you. 'Why, in all my years doing this, I don't think I've ever seen a more joyful expectant husband. Is this baby your first?' Undertaker nods excitedly, but you're the one who answers verbally.

'The first of many, we hope. That's why we'll be needing a quality crib to pass on to future babies, too.' Undertaker kisses your neck, your words obviously a delight to him.

The woman moves even closer. 'I'm sure I can help you there. I know it's rude of me to ask, but can I feel your bump? I love feeling baby bumps.' She so sweet, you can't say no to her. You remove Undertaker's hands, and encourage her to put here on your belly instead.

Your baby takes the opportunity it kick her.

She laughs excitedly. 'You've a spirited one there! I doubt they have much longer to go, judging by the size of you. About a month maybe, is that right?' She looks certain, but you know she can't be right. You have two months left, not one. You tell her this. 'Are you certain? You seem rather big for seven months, unless…' she moves her hands around a bit more, as if she's trying to cover the baby's whole outline. Suddenly, her hands stop moving, and she smiles at you knowingly.

'As I suspected. You're going to have your hands full very soon. There's an awfully large amount of baby in your belly. I think my estimation of a month remaining is about right, despite your certainty. Now, about this cot…' you back away from her, eyes wide with panic and shock. Is she trying to tell you that your baby was conceived more than seven months ago? That's impossible! You've only been with the Undertaker for seven months! Unless it's not his child…

No, stop it. It has to be his! Who else's an it be? It's been over a year since your last 'encounter' with Sebastian, and he was the last man you'd taken before Undertaker. There's no way it's his baby! Although, can you be certain it isn't? After all, he could have snuck in one night whilst you were sleeping…

Hang on, it can't be his! Undertaker told you that demons can't have children with mortals unless a special ritual takes place! Given that you're certain you'd know if you were taking part in such a thing, you rule out the possibility of it being Sebastian's. However, there was another story Undertaker told you that makes you feel even more uneasy…

Incubus. What if you've fallen prey to an incubus? Undertaker said that the council had executed the original incubi, but who's to say more didn't try it? After all, with the reaper council relaxing the rules on human interaction…

Your head starts to feel fuzzy. No matter what the answer, one thing is for sure; you need to get out of here right now.

You approach the Undertaker, fighting a panic attack as you do. 'I'm not feeling very well. Can I have the keys, please?' He fishes them out of his pocket, but doesn't give them to you straight away.

'If you're feeling unwell, I'll walk you hope. We don't want you collapsing in the street, after all. I can't imagine such a thing would be good for our baby.' His words make you feel sick with guilt and grief. Has he not made the same mental leap you have? Does he still believe that the child is his? No, it's too much. You can't do this.

You snatch the keys from him. 'I'm going on my own. Please, don't follow me.' With that you leave, and stumble towards home.

The journey back home is a nosy one, as you can hear people talking about you constantly. Words like 'is she alright?' and 'how improper for a woman in her condition to be out walking alone.' You ignore them all, desperate to be alone, free to explore your thoughts without risking physical collapse.

You reach the shop, and unlock the door with trembling fingers. The shop seems darker today, and you blame that on your husband's absence. You're surprised that he didn't follow you back, but you figure that he didn't want to risk upsetting you. It wouldn't be good for the baby, after all.

You fall against the door, sobbing violently. The old woman's words are still at the forefront of your mind. How could this have happened? How could someone sneak into your room without you having any knowledge of it? Unless it was Undertaker…

Yeah, because he's really the kind of man who rapes women in their sleep. Is your opinion of him so low you'd really think him capable of such a thing? No, your first time together was just after his first verbal spat with Sebastian. If it's his baby, then that's the earliest that it could have been conceived.

You pray that it was that night, otherwise he's in for a whole amount of heartbreak.

Your sobs die down, and you decide that now is the perfect time for a bath. After all, baths are good for relaxation, and you seriously need to relax.

You pour yourself a suitably deep bath, ensuring that it isn't too hot; too much heat isn't good for you or the baby right now.

As you step in, you feel all of your worries drift away, along with your state of consciousness.

You're eventually woken up by a pair of hands gently pushing you forwards. You shift subconsciously, making sure not to crush your bump in the process. You hear someone enter the bath just behind you, and suddenly begin to panic; you've left the door unlocked! It could be anyone getting into the bath you! You're about to turn around and scream, when a familiar pair of scarred arms wrap themselves around you; it's the Undertaker.

You settle back against his chest, heart returning to its normal rhythm. He kisses the top of your head. 'You know, I didn't think that this bath would be big enough for the three of us. Looks like I was wrong.' You didn't think so either, but you're not about to complain that you do.

He picks up the soap, and starts cleaning your hair for you, mimicking your actions from a few months ago. The only real differences are that you're both in the bath, and that he's somehow massaging your scalp as he cleans it. He truly is a talent man.

He rinses off your hair methodically, ensuring that no soap suds remain. When he's done, he begins massaging your shoulders, speaking softly into your ear. 'Are you going to tell me what's wrong, or do I have to guess?' You sigh heavily, not wanting to have this conversation with him just yet. However, you know he'll pry it out of you eventually, so it's best to just come out and say it (even if his clever fingers are making it hard for you to concentrate).

You decide it's best to be blunt. 'What if this baby isn't yours?' You expect him to cease movement out of pure shock, but he doesn't, hands remaining mobile on your back.

'That's a silly question, given that I'm the only man you've taken to bed in the last year. The baby is mine, my love. I'm certain of it. Unless you have something you'd like to confess?' If he were any other man, you'd take his words as an accusation. However, he's not any other man, and you know he's only asking you as a way to work through whatever dark thoughts you may be having.

You sigh heavily again. 'No, there isn't. I had feelings for you long before I acted on them. I'm not the kind of person who beds someone when I have feelings for another.' He starts kissing your neck, making you shiver despite the fact that the water is still warm; he must have topped it up a bit before getting in.

His hands settle over your bump. 'I know you're not, although I wish you had acted upon your feeling sooner; then again, I'm guilty of the same. So, that rules out anyone else being responsible for this.' He moves his hands over your belly to illustrate what he's talking about. You put your hands over his, stilling them so you can talk to him without distraction.

'It could be the work of an incubus.' You can feel his body tense up temporarily, before returning to a relaxed state.

'I highly doubt that. Do you remember how scared William was once he found out who you were? I'm still officially a member of the high council, meaning I can make life very unpleasant for any reaper stupid enough to cross me. Sneaking into my home would be crime enough, but doing anything to a woman sleeping in my bed… unless that reaper still retains suicidal tendencies, I don't think that incubi are something you have to worry about. If they still exist at all, that is…' his words are doing wonders for your worries, making them seem foolish. There is one thing that you can't get out of your head though…

'What do you think that old lady meant by 'an awfully large amount of baby in your belly'?' He wraps his arms around your middle, your hands remaining on top of his own. He kisses your ear before answering you.

'I think that means our little one isn't going to be quite so little after all. He or she is going to be big and strong, and almost certainly healthy, too. It does mean they'll be harder for you to push out, but I know you'll manage it. You're so much stronger than you think. I think the baby takes after you.' You're about to answer, but the baby does so for you; by kicking against Undertaker's hands furiously.

You turn your head back to face him. 'You're right about something; this baby feels plenty healthy to me!' He gives you a passionate kiss, hands still taking a beating from the baby.

When you break away, he laughs breathlessly. 'I second that thought, although I must admit I'm not looking forward to changing it; I have a feeling it'll kick my eye out!' You laugh along with him, anxiety finally gone again. He always has a way of making you feel better, even in your darkest moments. You only hope he feels the same about you.

You end up falling asleep on his chest, but he doesn't seem to mind, content to let you slumber for a while.

The Undertaker's hands continue to roam lightly over his sleeping wife's belly, determined to find what the old woman had found. Are the baby's legs too long? Does it have a growth? His search grows desperate, his desire to learn the truth almost causing his wife to stir.

He eventually gives up his search, unable to find anything unusual. Then again, he hasn't had any experience with pregnant women or their bumps before, so he isn't sure what 'unusual' even is.

As he gives up, he feels a faint little kick against his arm. It's not as strong as the one earlier, but he figures it's just because the baby is tired too. Either that, or it's trying to reassure him that everything is alright.

Whatever the reason, he rubs the spot where he felt the kick, just to let his baby know that daddy is looking out for it.

He soon finds himself drifting off too, contentedly holding his whole family in his arms.


	23. Hidden Anxiety

Your bedroom is blanketed with dark. Not even moonlight dares to disturb it. A thin sheen of sweat covers your forehead, and there's an immense amount of pain in your belly; the baby is coming.

Your arms flail out, trying desperately to find someone or something to grab onto. You call out for the Undertaker, but you get no answer. You're on your own, about to give birth in the darkness.

You feel cold hands grasp at you bare legs, and breath a sigh of relief; you're not alone after all. You look between your legs, desperate to thank your saviour.

You words die in your throat when a pair of crimson eyes stare up, shining like a cat's. He grins, and you see his pure white fangs gleam. This man is not your saviour; he is your damnation.

His voice is low and deep as he addresses you. 'Good girl, that's it. A few more pushes and it'll all be over. Thank you so much for doing this for me. Finding a suitable host was a difficult task, but thankfully you've played your part perfectly. Once I have my heir, I'll send you off to see your lover. He put up such a fight when I came in, but I fear your constant demands had run him ragged. He didn't have the speed or the energy left in him to dodge my blades. So much for being a legendary grim reaper…' he's lying. He has to be. Undertaker can't be dead! He just can't be! There's no way Sebastian could kill him!

Your internal protests are halted by another surge of pain. The baby's head starts to come out, and you're certain that one more push is all it will take. So you push. You push with all your might, desperate to see your precious little baby.

A loud wailing fills the room; you're a mother.

Your whole body feels exhausted, all your energy exerted bringing your little one into the world. You manage to tilt your head to see him, praying that he has Undertaker's features.

Another pair of crimson eyes stare up at you.

Sebastian's words are full of pride. 'He looks just like his father.'

You somehow find the energy to scream.

-/-/-/-/-/-/-

You jolt up in bed, heart racing and body covered in sweat. A nightmare? Your hands go straight to your belly, and you breath a sigh of relief when you discover it's still swollen.

A nightmare.

You try to calm your breathing. It's been about six months since you last experienced such a thing. You blame it on your encounter with the old woman a few weeks ago.

Every since that day, both you and the Undertaker have been acting differently. Every little twinge or kick has you concerned, as you're still panicking about the baby's due date. What if it does come a month early, as the old woman had suggested? Your heart keeps telling you that it won't, because it knows that the baby is Undertaker's. Your mind doesn't share that view, and has spent the last month trying to remember if anything happened to you whilst you were sleeping. You don't think so, but you're not certain. After all, you'd had a few dirty dreams about the Undertaker at that time (despite not knowing just how attractive he looks with his bangs swept away). What if one of those dreams had some basis in reality? What if someone snuck into your bed, and took you as you dreamt of your future husband? The Undertaker might be certain that no reaper would try such a thing, but how can he be certain? One thing is for sure, it isn't Sebastian's; that isn't biologically possible. It makes your nightmare even stranger, as you know such a thing will never come to pass. The dream world is a funny place…

The changes in Undertaker's personality have been subtle, but you've known him long enough now to pick up on them. You catch him looking at you out of the corner of his eye sometimes, concern etched on his features. Every time you feel a twinge or a kick he races to your side, but there's no longer enthusiasm on his face; it's fear. He tries to hide it under his smiles and calming words, but you see it as clear as day. The old woman's words have gotten to him, too. Even the joy he once felt over the arrival of his first born has dampened, as you can see sadness twinkling in his eyes. He looks as if his whole world is about to crumble at his feet…

Undertaker makes a noise in his sleep, indicating that he's about to wake up. He sits up slowly, rubbing his eyes as he does. He looks at you, blinking rapidly as his eyes adjust to the limited light. Dawn is breaking, but your bedroom has yet to become illuminated by the sun's rays. His eyebrows are knit together closely, his face full of concern. 'Is everything alright, love?' He asks, wrapping an arm around you.

His words cause you to lose any sense of calm you'd gained after waking, and you sob violently into his chest, consumed by fear. He caresses you lovingly as you cry, kissing the top of your hand as he tries to calm you. It usually works almost instantly, but this time you're far too consumed by fear and grief. Your perfect life has been torn apart by uncertainty, and there's nothing you can do to fix it.

The Undertaker starts whispering into your hair, trying his best to calm you. 'It's okay, I'm here now. Please stop crying, love. Please?' You do your best to calm down, managing to lessen your sobs a little. You try to speak, but your words come out in fragments, each set broken up by sobs.

'What… if… some-something… happens… to… the… baby?' He puts his hands on your face, cupping it as he wipes away your tears. He looks you dead in the eyes, a fierce determination that you've never seen before shining in them.

'Nothing is going to happen. Our baby is going to be fine. We can't let some old biddy's words affect us like this! There is nothing wrong with our child.' You calm down enough to speak a little clearer this time, although you doubt he'll want to hear what you have to say.

'You don't… believe that though, d-do you? I've s-seen the w-way you look… at me. It's like… you're going to lose us both!' There's pain in his eyes, so raw and unrestrained that you regret your words instantly. You wish you could take them back, but the damage is done.

He speaks quietly, with little emotion. 'I've gained more than I've ever deserved. Of course I'm worried I'm going to lose it all. From the moment we first kissed, I knew that my happiness would be fleeting. I thought you'd leave me after that first night, or after I told you what I was. By some miracle you stayed, then told me you were having my child. In that moment, I had everything I've ever wanted. However, that kind of happiness is dangerous. It makes you content. I don't know what that old lady meant that day, but I know that it terrifies me. Is there something wrong with our baby? Will he or she be born covered in growths and sores before fading away in my arms? I'm so scared, love. Scared that everything I love is going to be stolen away by some cruel twist of fate.' He's sobbing himself now, something that surprised you; you've never seen him so upset.

You bring his head into your bosom, letting him cry as much as he needs to. Grief pours out of him in waves, which only adds to your tears. The two of you sit crying until the sun rises, by which time the tears have all but dried up. He takes in a deep breath, like he plans to speak. Before he gets the chance, he's kicked in the face by the baby, who is apparently none too happy about its parents being upset. Undertaker chuckles, and brings a hand up to caress your bump.

'Sorry, Mummy and Daddy needed a good cry. Didn't mean to wake you.' This time it's you that gets kicked, an albeit softer one that lands on you bladder. You reluctantly push the Undertaker away, suddenly desperate for the toilet. He looks at you, a little dejected before you explain your need to pee. He smiles sadly at you. 'I'll go and make us breakfast, then.' You respond with an apologetic smile, before sprinting to the bathroom.

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

You enter the kitchen hesitantly after peeing, unsure of Undertaker's mood. You catch sight of him over the stove, flipping pancakes as usual. There's an air of sadness about him, one that you're eager to change.

You waddle over to his side, cuddling into his arm. He looks at you, sighing heavily. 'I'm sorry for dumping all of my feelings on you like that. I've probably made your own fears even worse…' you see tears threatening to fall again, but you're determined not to see him cry anymore tears this morning.

You kiss his shoulder. 'We needed to talk things through. You can offload on me as often as you need to; heaven knows I wouldn't be here now if it weren't for you putting up with my tears.

'As for your anxieties, I suggest you try to forget about them. You've been far too nice to me, so I'm afraid you're stuck with me now. As for our baby, I really doubt we'll have to worry about it being sickly. Sick babies don't kick their fathers in the face!' He laughs a little, which is a relief. It's heartbreaking seeing him sad…

He abandons breakfast preparation, instead turning to you so he can caress your face and belly simultaneously. 'True enough, I suppose. I really don't deserve you, either of you.' A soft kick lands on his hand. 'Look, Daddy is sorry for being so silly, but there's no need to keep kicking me!' You giggle, and the baby kicks again, as if he or she is deliberately challenging him.

As the Undertaker continues to gently berate your unborn child ('I helped give you life, you know. You should start being a bit nicer!'), you think on the old woman again. If her prediction is correct, then you're going to be a mother any day now.

You just hope everything is going to be alright.


End file.
